The People He Loved
by MissMoony7575
Summary: After Yassen survives the crash, he finds himself acting as a father to a girl. In a single moment of madness, he's back in the world he thought he'd left behind - and he's dragged Alex back in as well. Post Snakehead.
1. Not an Ordinary Assassin

Yassen Gregorovich never speaks of the people he loved.

He never speaks about his mother and father. Their death seemed to silence him like a gag. They were one of the few people he'd loved, and like most people he'd loved, he'd lost them. Like John Rider.

An unexpected trail of tragedies haunts Yassen Gregorovich. It's unusual for a contract killer to have such a past. Most of them are untroubled by anything, and some of them have even killed their families. Most never love anyone. Most don't have a heart.

But Yassen Gregorovich is different.

Not that anyone knows.

He has a heart, however it's hidden. He's loved, but regrets it. One of the things Yassen hates is love. He wished he'd never come across it. But love affects everyone - the young, the old, the rich, the wealthy, the good and the bad, and the in between. Many people say love is the closest thing to heaven - Yassen believes it's the closest thing to hell. It hurts more than a bullet wound, it hurts more than torture. It wrenches your heart out of its place and tears it apart. It holds you prisoner, and you can't escape.

Yassen's been hurt by love.

His first mistake was to love his parents. He was an ordinary child, of course, extraordinary in his perception and skill, but led an ordinary life. He didn't have his life planned out, and thought he would simply live, and die, and go through life as a normal person. When his parents were killed when he was just 14 years of age, it hit him hard. He'd never dealt with tragedy before.

And then, again, he'd made the mistake of forming a friendship with John Rider. John Rider saved his life. Yassen didn't know how to repay him. So he did it with love. Even the people at MI6 knew that John Rider felt sorry for Yassen, and had some sort of attachment to his student. Yassen himself looked up to John Rider as a role model, and a mentor.

When Yassen heard that John had died, he felt the same pain as he had when his parents died. It hit him hard. And that was when he pledged to himself that he would never love again.

He hesitated for a moment before he pulled the trigger on Ian Rider. But he'd made a promise to himself and Yassen was determined to keep it.

But then he broke it again when he met Alex Rider for the second time.

Alex reminded Yassen greatly of himself, left alone at just 14 years of age, thrown into the real world far before his time. He had lost his parents too; he knew the pain that so many ordinary children did not. He understood far more than his peers, as Yassen had when he was a child.

As well as reminding Yassen of himself, Alex reminded Yassen of John. With his incredible skill and bravery, and the way he was always calm. Though Yassen knew he had promised himself not to get attached to anyone, Yassen couldn't help loving him.

He'd told Alex the truth aboard Air Force One, and though Alex didn't believe Yassen at first, he'd started to believe him during the end. Alex deserved to know the truth, thought Yassen.

And now, somehow, Yassen Gregorovich has found himself with someone that is another possible cause of disaster, someone who could turn his world upside down once more.

He doesn't like it.

x.x.x

The phone rang.

Little did Yassen know this single phone call would turn his life upside down.

It's unusual for an assassin's life to be changed completely by a ringing phone. Their lives are changed by guns, knives and bombs. Not phone calls.

But Yassen's not an ordinary assassin.

'Hello,' he said. There was no point phrasing the word as a question, Yassen thought. There was a time and place for questions. This was not the time.

'Ivan Gregorovich?' asked the female voice on the other end.

Yassen had survived the crash, and the bullet wound he'd sustained. When the ambulance arrived, Yassen was rushed to hospital with minimal damage from the plane, but was in a critical condition from the bullet. Yassen had survived. Before MI6 could come in to identify him, Yassen had slipped out of the hospital. After that, Yassen had set up a fake identity - it stopped the hoard of intelligence agencies on his tail.

'Yes. What do you want?' he asked coldly.

'I'm sorry to inform you that your cousin, Igor Gregorovich, has just died.'

'I'm sorry to hear that,' said Yassen, not sounding very sorry at all.

'Well… he had a daughter. Anya Gregorovich. In his will, he's stated that you'll be her guardian.'

Yassen was surprised, but he didn't show it. Igor? He didn't have a child!

But then again, he'd never talked to Igor since he was 14. After that, he'd never heard from him. Why would he leave his only child to Yassen? Didn't the girl have other relatives? Yassen could not be looking after a child, for heaven's sake! He was an assassin!

Yassen took a deep breath.

'Igor… left the girl to me?' he asked.

'Yes.'

'Does she not have any other living relatives?'

'No,' said the woman. 'Her mother died when she was 1 year old, and she had no relatives. You are the only relative,' she said.

'No godfathers or godmothers?' asked Yassen.

'No.'

There was silence. The woman decided to continue.

'You can come in tomorrow and make a decision. You don't have to decide now. Anya's with us at the moment.'

'I shall do that,' said Yassen.

'Alright then,' said the woman, sounding happy. Was it for her sake or the girl's? 'The address is 9 Smith Street, West London. What time should we expect you?'

'Around 5 o' clock,' said Yassen, hanging up. The woman was surprised - he hadn't even said goodbye. But then again, not many assassins say goodbye on the phone.

Yassen sighed. What was he getting himself into?


	2. What About John Rider?

Yassen Gregorovich was outside the building on 9 Smith Street at exactly 1700 hours.

'Ivan?' asked a woman coming out of the building. She was plump, short and had dirty blonde hair and a motherly smile, which she flashed at Yassen. He didn't appreciate it.

'Yes.'

'Come in!' said the woman, smiling wider and indicating for Yassen to follow her. He did so, however reluctantly.

'So were you close to Igor?' she asked, trying to make conversation. Yassen was determined to do the exact opposite.

'No,' he said coldly, not meeting her eyes.

'Just in here, honey,' she said, turning a corner and smiling at Yassen. She didn't know that she was speaking to one of the most dangerous assassins in the world. Otherwise she wouldn't have called him 'honey'.

It was, admittedly, a dangerous thing to do.

They entered a room and the first thing Yassen noticed was a girl sitting at a table. She looked around fourteen years old, and had long blonde hair the exact colour of Yassen's own, and even his cold blue eyes. He didn't remember Igor looking so much like him.

'Anya, this is Ivan,' said the woman.

'Hi,' she said softly, looking down. She didn't meet his eyes. Yassen saw that her eyes were slightly red - she'd obviously been crying, and she had looked hurt.

'Hello Anya,' said Yassen.

'Please, sit down!' said the woman, taking a seat. Hesitantly Yassen sat down opposite the woman and the girl.

'Here is some information on her past life,' said the woman, sliding a file across the table. Yassen was grimly reminded of the days in Scorpia - where that file would have information on his target.

'What if I refuse?' asked Yassen, not opening the file.

The woman didn't reply.

Yassen took a look at the girl sitting opposite him. Her hair covered half her face and her blue eyes searched Yassen for any sign of compassion. She didn't find any. Of course she was - she'd lost both her parents. Like Alex Rider. Like himself.

He couldn't bear to look at the girl's expression as he'd suggested refusing to take her in.

Yassen didn't want to let someone into his life. Every time he had, it had ended badly. He'd always be alone in the end. He didn't need anyone. He didn't want to open up his heart to anyone. He didn't want to be a guardian to a fourteen-year old girl! He lived and worked alone.

But then Yassen realised, this wasn't about himself.

It was about Anya.

She'd just lost both of her parents, and now she'd been given a spark of hope - living with her uncle. She had someone, someone who could take her in. Who was Yassen to deny her happiness, that which he was never offered?

'I'll take her,' he said grudgingly. The girl's face lit up like a light bulb and a smile began to appear on her face.

'Thank you, Mr Gregorovich,' said the woman, flashing another smile at Yassen. 'There are just a few documents that need signing, and then you can take her home. Anya, meet your new guardian!' She smiled at both Anya and Yassen.

Yassen would soon come to regret his decision, but the other alternative would have been regretted even more.

x.x.x

'Come in,' he said, opening the door wider. It wasn't the 'come in' that most people use, like the friendly and hearty 'come in' that comes from Italian grandmothers, or the 'come in' from an excited girl ushering in her date, and it wasn't even an angry 'come in', like the person didn't really mean it - it was a cold 'come in', one that really couldn't care less.

Yassen took a few moments to look at the girl he would have to take in as a daughter.

_Why am I doing this?_ he asked himself again.

She had Yassen's blond hair and his cold blue eyes - no, Yassen reminded himself, it's _Igor's _eyes and hair, not yours. She's not your child. She was short, at least in Yassen's eyes - around 5 foot 2, and slim. She didn't look like an ordinary teenager - ordinary teenagers were dull, wore outlandish clothes and had no sense of the real world. She was different. She looked like she'd seen some of the real world, and had a sense of what it was like. Courtesy of her parents dying, Yassen expected.

'You can sleep in the guest room,' said Yassen, taking her suitcase from her. It was unexpectedly light. He wondered whether her old house was still standing.

Anya half-smiled.

'Thank you, Uncle Ivan,' she said.

Yassen was not used to being called Uncle, or Ivan, or both at the same time. It was a weird experience. For some reason, he felt apprehensive of the idea of telling her his real name.

_But why not?_ said another part of himself. _You're dead to the world anyway. MI6 thinks you're dead. Scorpia thinks you're dead. Alex Rider thinks you're dead._

'Call me Yassen,' he said, not looking straight at the girl.

'Why?' she asked suspiciously. Yassen was surprised by her question. He didn't expect a newly orphaned teenage girl to be questioning something he said. No one questioned Yassen, not unless they didn't value their life.

'It's my name,' he said.

'I thought Ivan was your name,' she said, as if it was a question that required a response.

'Everyone calls me Yassen,' he said firmly. 'You should go to sleep. It's getting late.' His voice had suddenly acquired a steely quality that wasn't there before.

Anya didn't reply as she closed the door to her room.

x.x.x

Yassen was confused.

Why had he taken the girl in? Why did he commit such an act of kindness? Yassen Gregorovich was not a kind man. He was not the kind of man who could look after a child. He did not have the time, he did not have the skill, he did not have the temperament, and he did not have the knowledge. But he did have the opportunity, and in a single moment of madness, he'd taken it.

_Why does it matter?_ said the part of him that had a heart. _You're dead to the world anyway. You have no obligations. You can do whatever you want. _

_Well I don't want to look after a girl!_ his heartless side argued.

_Don't you? _

_No. I hate love._

_Do you?_

_Yes._

_What about John Rider?_

Yassen didn't answer.


	3. Night Time Encouters

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! It's what authors feed on, you know?

Oh, and a question you can answer in your reviews - If someone should die, who should it be - Alex, Yassen, Anya or Jack?

Happy reading!

x.x.x

Yassen climbed the stairs to get to his bedroom. It was 2 am in the morning, and finally time for Yassen to get to sleep. He tried to put the matter of Anya out of his mind and focus on the Japanese he was meant to be learning, but he became distracted and couldn't see the point in it.

Was he going to continue with his job?

He had enough money to last him a lifetime. But maybe not enough for Anya. Damian Cray had never paid him, seeing as he was dead.

He didn't know what he wanted to do, but all these thoughts were pushed out of his mind as he passed Anya's door.

Because Yassen was an assassin, he'd learnt to do everything silently. Now, as he walked silently to his room, he'd heard faint sobs from behind Anya's door. The girl was crying.

Yassen didn't know what to do. He hadn't cried since he was 14. When his parents died.

He paused outside her door, not wanting to hear the girl crying but also not wanting to walk away and pretending nothing had happened. He waited for a minute or so, hoping something would happen to prevent him making a decision. Nothing did.

Silently, as he always did, Yassen walked to his room without another word.

x.x.x

The next night, Yassen avoided passing Anya's room on his way to his own.

He tried to sleep, but he couldn't. He knew Anya was crying, even if he couldn't hear it. She masked her sadness well during the day - Yassen wondered whether it was genetic - but when she assumed he couldn't hear, she let go. Something Yassen never did. He hadn't let go since he was 14. Emotions were bad. Scorpia had taught him that, and now it was scripted into his personality.

He turned over and tried to forget about the girl.

He didn't get any sleep that night.

The next night, he also did not pass Anya's room.

He found he couldn't sleep again. Guilt had been the least of Yassen's problems in the past - why was it troubling himself so much now? Why did he feel guilty for ignoring the girl?

Yassen cursed himself for getting into this dilemma.

He couldn't sleep now.

_For heaven's sake!_ he thought to himself, standing up again and creeping to Anya's room. He wondered for a moment whether it would be rude to enter without her permission, but dismissed the thought. Yassen didn't sleep for too long, but he definitely needed to sleep.

He heard her crying again, and frowned. He hated the way her sobs had control over his emotions. He alone should control his emotions. Not some crying teenage girl.

Silently he opened the door, but Anya didn't notice it. Yassen slipped into the room, and wondered what he should do. He wasn't a good person to talk to. But better someone than no one.

Anya didn't notice him - Yassen had been trained to be invisible and Anya's face was facing the wall.

Yassen knelt beside the bed and shook Anya gently.

'Anya?' he whispered. Anya stopped her crying immediately, turning over to face Yassen. Yassen could make out her red eyes even in the dim moonlight - he'd been trained to see the faintest details even in the darkest of situations. Yassen was slightly bemused by the way his training had come into comforting the girl.

'Yeah?' she said softly, sniffling.

What should Yassen say now? In all his 35 years, Yassen had never been taught anything about how to cheer up someone who was sad.

He settled on,

'Are you alright?'

Anya sniffled again. Yassen plucked a tissue from the tissue box on the desk and handed it to her. He hated the sound of sniffling. It was a sound of weakness.

A hand reached out from under the covers and took the tissue. She wiped her eyes and her nose and half-smiled at Yassen.

'I'm fine,' she lied.

Yassen knew she was lying, but tried to take the sentence as an excuse to win back his right to sleep. He stood up and tried to smile at Anya, but failed.

'Goodnight then,' he said. Anya didn't answer. Yassen was just about to walk out of the room, before realising he wouldn't get any sleep like this anyway. He cursed silently and went back to Anya.

'You're not alright,' he declared.

Anya didn't reply. There was a moment of silence, and then Anya burst into tears again.

Hastily she brought a hand up to wipe the tears, not wanting to be caught crying hysterically in front of her uncle. Yassen sighed inside his head.

He took her hand in his - spurred only by a burst of intuition that told him it was the right thing to do.

'It's going to be alright,' he said softly, soothingly. Yassen didn't feel like himself. He certainly wasn't acting like himself. It was like someone had possessed him. Maybe someone _had_ possessed him.

'Thanks, Yassen,' said Anya.

Silence enveloped the two. Yassen didn't know how long he knelt there, holding Anya's hand, and trying to think of something to say. No words came to his mouth - or hers. It was a moment of silence that meant more than a thousand words.

x.x.x

Yassen's eyes flickered open and he realised he must have fallen asleep. He found himself sitting against the bedside table, and still holding Anya's hand. Anya had fallen asleep too, a look of peacefulness on her young face. The sunlight was already filtering in - it was morning already.

_At least I got some sleep,_ thought Yassen, untangling his hand from Anya's and silently leaving her room.

Yassen didn't know what to think of his unexpected act of kindness.

Neither did Anya, she realised, as she woke up to find her uncle gone.


	4. More Than I Can Say For Myself

Author's note: In the light of school starting again, (everyone give a big sigh), I've decided to post another chapter, because I really want to get to the action part and it's taking too long for my liking, and I won't be able to update much once school starts again. And for all you Alex fans, Alex is appearing in the next chapter!

**WARNING: THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS.**

Not too much, but I thought that I'd mention it.

x.x.x

Both Anya and Yassen pretended that their night time encounter had never happened the next day. Anya spent most of the day in her room – Yassen had no idea what she was doing. He didn't care to find out.

Yassen himself switched between cooking, teaching himself Japanese and studying Anya's file. The day seemed to fly, and before he knew it, it was time to sleep again.

Yassen forgot about not passing Anya's room – and he heard the girl crying again.

He sighed deeply. He wouldn't get any sleep. He cursed silently and opened the door to her room.

Anya flung herself onto Yassen. He was shocked to see this sudden outburst of emotion. Yassen was not used to emotions of any kind.

16 years being an assassin, 5 black belts in karate, the highest title in no less than 5 martial arts, knowledge of just about every weapon in the world, years of psychological training, no less than 70 assassinations, and yet Yassen Gregorovich still can't find a defence against a teenage girl crying into his shirt.

'I'll never see him again,' she sobbed. 'He's dead!' she exclaimed, and with that a torrent of tears slid down her face.

Yassen didn't know what to do.

'I'll never be able to talk to him again! He's my dad, and he's gone!'

Yassen patted her on the back.

'It'll be alright,' he said again. He felt a pang of sadness as he remembered this was exactly the way he felt when his own parents had died.

'He's never coming back,' she sobbed, 'He's never coming back.'

Yassen was tempted to just tell her that he was still with her, and all the other things he'd heard social workers tell him at 14 years old, in their pep talks to try and stop him from crying, but he knew it wasn't true.

x.x.x

'_What's your name, dear?' asked the woman standing in front of Yassen. Yassen wiped his eyes and sniffled, and looked down at the floor instead of at the woman._

'_Yassen Gregorovich,' he said, shaking. 'Do you know where my parents are?' he asked anxiously. The woman tried to smile, but then burst into tears._

'_I'm sorry, honey, but I'm afraid they died,' she said, hugging him._

_Nothing could have prepared Yassen for that._

'_T–They died?' he stuttered, not able to control himself anymore. He started to cry._

'_I'm so sorry,' said the woman._

'_No! No! They can't have died!' he shouted, shaking his head, and trying to convince himself it wasn't true. His parents were invincible. If they died, Yassen would have died too. They can't have died. _

_And yet they had._

'_They'll still be with you. In here,' she said, pointing at her heart, trying to smile at him. Yassen knew better than to believe her. _

_21 years later, Yassen had still never even felt the faintest presence of his parents. They had gone forever, and he was left to deal with life without them. They weren't with him, and Yassen knew it._

A silent tear slid down Yassen's cheek.

It was the first time he had cried in 21 years.

x.x.x

'_Yassen?' asked Mrs Smith, the same woman who had taken him from the wreckage and tried to tell Yassen his parents were still with him. _

_Yassen didn't answer. He didn't look at her his eyes turned to look at the two black coffins, as he tried to come to the realisation that his parents were dead. His always cheerful, jolly father and his loving, beautiful mother._

_He would never see them again!_

_He had been swamped by social workers, and had been assured that he would be placed in a wonderful foster home. Yassen didn't believe them. He wanted his parents back. But not even the will of the boy who was about to be the world's best assassin could bring people back from the dead._

_Yassen started to cry. He almost wished he had died as well, so that he didn't have to deal with the emotions he was feeling now. But he knew anything was better than being dead, and immediately reprimanded himself for such a morbid thought. _

'_It's alright, sweetie,' said Mrs Smith, patting him on the back. _

_Yassen wanted to run away. He wanted to run away from the evidence that his parents were dead, he wanted to run away from the over–sweet social workers, he wanted to run away from the place, he wanted to run away from everything and forget that anything had ever happened._

'_No it's not alright! It's not! They're dead! I'll never see them again!' cried Yassen, tears sliding down his face. _

_And then he ran._

x.x.x

'Anya,' Yassen said softly. She was still crying. 'Anya, you're going to be alright.'

_More than I can say for myself,_ thought Yassen sadly.


	5. Yassen's Smile

Ok, this is an extra-long chapter because I _really_ want to get into the action.

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR HARRY POTTER AND THE DEATHLY HALLOWS.**

Just thought I'd clarify that.

Can I add that there's going to be absolutely NO romance between Alex and Anya. It wouldn't work.

AND – another question: Do you want to see Yassen's birthday first or when Alex spots Yassen? Tell me in your review!

x.x.x

A few weeks had passed since Anya had burst into Yassen's life.

Anya was eating her breakfast silently, sitting opposite her uncle, never looking straight into his eyes. She was quite afraid of what she would find there, even though they'd established some sort of father/daughter relationship. Yassen still confused her with his different behaviour – sometimes being caring and understanding, and sometimes being cold and emotionless. Anya didn't know it, but Yassen confused himself as well.

Yassen was reading through the files on Anya's past life.

'You attended Brookland School, in Chelsea,' Yassen said, stating it more as a fact than posing a question.

Anya nodded.

'And?' she asked.

'Are you going to continue attending Brookland?' asked Yassen.

'I'd like to,' she said simply. Her mind seemed miles away.

Yassen didn't probe further. She was obviously deep in thought – and he knew how much people hated it when you interrupted their thinking. Yassen hated it especially. He guessed that she did as well.

Anya toyed with her spoon; twirling it in her fingers and watching it catch the sunlight. She kept her eyes down, staring at her cereal as it grew soggy. She seemed to be struggling with something – Yassen wasn't surprised. Her dad had just died.

She paused for a second, dangling the spoon in mid air, before she placed it back on the table and lifted her head, looking Yassen in the eye.

'Yassen?' she asked, her eyes searching. Yassen didn't look away.

'Yes?'

'Are your parents alive?' she asked. She stared straight into his cold blue eyes with her own, fixing her gaze and never turning away. She marvelled at how his now-emotionless eyes could have cried a few weeks ago. Maybe it wasn't Yassen all those nights. Maybe it was an impostor.

There were a few moments of silence, and Yassen seemed to struggle for an answer, which was an extremely rare sight.

'No.'

His voice was cold.

Anya decided to ask the rest of her questions another day. Yassen did not seem as if he wanted to answer anything more. She averted her gaze, stood up and left the table.

x.x.x

Alex Rider was reading 'Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows' underneath the desk. It had been released a few weeks before, and most of Brookland had already read it, but Alex had been in Thailand. Of course he'd already heard that Harry survived – Alex had felt a sudden rush of happiness when he'd heard. Harry reminded Alex of himself, though he'd never tell anyone that he thought so.

_Only Harry's godfather was innocent,_ thought Alex bitterly. He tried to put thoughts of Ash out of his mind. He didn't want to think about his godfather at all. Ash had betrayed him, and his parents, and Alex hated him with a burning passion.

_Stop thinking about Ash! _

He read on.

"The name 'Gregorovitch' sounded vaguely familiar to Harry, but he couldn't remember where he'd heard it before."

_Wonder where I've heard it before?_ thought Alex sarcastically. He felt a sharp pang of sadness which was rather unexpected. Alex had once vowed to kill Yassen Gregorovich. In a way, he had. Yassen died to save Alex and Sabina aboard Air Force One. Now… Alex didn't know what to think of the assassin. Yassen had told Alex that he loved him, but Alex, frankly, could not say the same, even though he'd overcome his hate of Yassen.

'Anya Gregorovich?' called out the teacher. Presumably she was marking the roll.

'Here.' Alex looked to the source of the voice, and gasped. He'd vaguely known the girl before, as she had been attending Brookland for a while now, but he'd never actually put her last name and her looks together. Now he did – and was shocked. She had long fair hair – the same hue as Yassen's, his cold, clue eyes and even the chiselled features that once marked Yassen's face. Before he had died.

_Don't be stupid,_ said Alex. _It's just a coincidence._

But however he tried to convince himself, his mind was firm. The girl had some connection with Yassen. And Alex was going to find out what it was.

x.x.x

Anya stepped into the house, to find her uncle sitting at the dining table, reading something. He glanced up at her as soon as she'd opened the door, and then turned back to whatever he was doing. She looked closer and recognised an exercise book filled with foreign characters and another brightly coloured book, declaring 'Learn Japanese' on the front cover.

If she was being looked after by anyone but Yassen, she would have expected a 'how was your day?' or 'how did school go?' from the person. Not Yassen, however. She'd learnt quickly that he didn't obey the usual rules of human interaction. He could be kind and caring – as she'd found out before, but at other times he was so emotionless and cold. She wondered whether he had bipolar disease.

And why on earth did Yassen need to speak Japanese?

What was Anya meant to do now? Go to her room and do her homework? Talk to her uncle?

'What is it?' asked Yassen, looking up at Anya, who was lingering in the corridor aimlessly.

'I –uh, nothing,' she said, walking towards her bedroom. He didn't believe her.

'Are you wondering what to do with the remaining hours of the day? I assume your teacher didn't give you any homework,' said Yassen, as if reading her mind.

'Um… yeah,' she said.

'I see you learn ballet,' said Yassen, and only then did Anya see, underneath the Japanese books, her file. She nodded.

'Would you like to show me some?' he asked. Anya shrugged.

'Alright.'

Anya quickly slipped on her ballet shoes and started to dance. Yassen concluded that she was quite good, for someone trained in England. He himself was a ballet dancer, but had stopped as soon as he'd started training to be an assassin. He recognised her dancing one of the most acclaimed choreographies of 'Swan Lake', which he had a chance to perform when he was 13 years old – before his whole life was blown apart.

Anya stopped abruptly in a place that did not seem to be the end of the dance.

'Why do you stop?' asked Yassen.

'I need a partner to continue,' she said simply.

Slowly, Yassen stood up, and he felt that all–too–familiar feeling of his caring side taking over. Over the last few weeks, he hadn't been acting like himself at all.

'Here,' he said, knowing that the next part of the dance was for the boy to lift the girl up into the air. And so, he danced with his new daughter, something he'd never dreamed he would do, never in a million years. He could hear Tchaikovsky's beautiful music in his head. He was sure Anya could as well.

Now he understood why Igor had a child. Now he understood why John had a child. Now he understood the joy they bring to parents. He suddenly wished he hadn't wasted away his life the way he had, and had done something worthwhile instead of taking lives.

_It's the thing you're best at,_ his heartless side argued. _You made the right decision. You wouldn't make a good father anyway!_

_Shut up, _argued his caring side. _Just shut up._

Yassen continued to dance, a smile growing fast upon both his and Anya's faces. He was glad he could bring the girl joy. She deserved it, after what she'd been through.

Slowly, they came to a stop as the dance finished. Yassen and Anya were both smiling.

x.x.x

_Yassen silently followed John Rider into his house. It was a small house, ordinary, largely unnoticed, but Yassen could feel that it was not just a house, but a home._

'_Hi, honey!' called out John. Helen Rider came out, beaming._

'_Good to see you back!' she said, hugging him tightly. They kissed quickly and then broke apart._

'_And who's this?' she asked, smiling at Yassen._

'_This is my student. Yassen, this is my wife, Helen.'_

_Yassen and Helen shook hands._

'_Nice to meet you,' she said, smiling at him. 'Keep an eye on John, won't you?'_

_Yassen tried to smile back._

_And then, a little boy with chubby cheeks and a few strands of fair hair came stumbling into the corridor. He was around 2 or 3 years old, and he walked awkwardly – like someone who had only just learnt. _

'_Hello, Alex!' said John happily, picking up the toddler in his strong arms. Alex Rider burped, giggled, and turned to Yassen with a look of confusion on his face._

'_Alex, this is Yassen,' said John, turning his son so that he could see the assassin properly. _

'_Hello Alex,' said Yassen emotionlessly. He had no feelings towards children. They were merely a nuisance to him. They always managed to get in the way, somehow._

_Alex had a look of wonder and amazement on his face. He hadn't seen a new person for a long time! He'd been with his mother in the house for a while now, and all the faces he saw were old. But now there was a new person._

_Alex stretched a stubby little hand out, and John Rider smiled. Slowly, and tentatively, Alex reached out._

_He touched Yassen's cheek._

_Yassen was surprised by Alex's gesture. Alex smiled, very amused, and laughed. Yassen tried to smile back, but he didn't really know how to. _

_Alex left his hand where it was, still looking at Yassen intently. He didn't know that one day he would come to hate Yassen. _

'_Yassen,' said John slowly, trying to teach Alex Rider a new word._

'_Ass–in,' tried Alex, still touching Yassen's cheek. He was fascinated by the newcomer. He had such odd eyes! _

'_Close enough,' said John Rider, grinning at Alex and Yassen. _

_That was the moment when Yassen began to love Alex Rider._

x.x.x

'Yassen?' asked Anya, bringing him back to reality. She was smiling like he'd never seen her smile before. Yassen felt a rush of happiness.

'Yes, sorry. I was just remembering something,' he said.

'What?' she asked curiously, tilting her head to one side.

'Don't worry about it,' he told her. 'That was really good.'

'Thanks,' she said, beaming. 'I didn't know you were a ballet dancer.'

Yassen smiled at her – a real, genuine smile, one he hadn't shown for a long time.

21 years, in fact.

It was then that Yassen decided that he was not going to resume his old job. He would take care of Anya, and raise her like his own daughter. He would leave the world of spies, assassins, guns, and bombs, and live a normal life. He felt the seeds of love being planted in his heart, and for the first time, he didn't resist them.

Little did he know that within the next few weeks he would be dragged back into the world he thought he had left forever.


	6. Curious Boy Called Alex Rider

Author's note:

Thank you to everyone who's reviewed this story! You guys are awesome!

I counted and it seemed more people wanted Alex to spot Yassen first - so Yassen's birthday will be in the next chapter. I promise the action is coming soon!

Happy reading!

x.x.x

It was the end of the day, and Alex knew it wasn't such a good idea to try and follow Anya. She could mistake him for a stalker, and even if she did have a connection with Yassen, wouldn't that just drag him back into the spy world?

But Alex's curiosity was overpowering, and he decided to follow her anyway. The school bell rang, indicating the end of class, and beside him, Tom whooped loudly.

'Finally!' said Tom, throwing his things into his bag. 'Come on Alex, there's something I want to show you…'

'Hold on, Tom,' said Alex, watching Anya. 'I'm sorry. I have to go.'

Tom raised an eyebrow.

'This doesn't have anything to do with…' He mouthed the words "MI6". Alex shook his head.

'Ok then,' said Tom, knowing it was better not to ask questions sometimes with Alex. 'See you later then!'

'Bye,' said Alex, rushing off. He swerved around the masses of students in the corridors, trying to keep up with Anya.

Alex wondered what he was going to do. Ask her whether she knew Yassen? Follow her? Investigate?

What on earth was he meant to do? He felt foolish now. The only thing that was driving him was the fact that she looked so like Yassen and had his last name. Maybe Alex was even imagining that she looked like Yassen. Maybe he was going mad.

_No!_ he argued. _She looks exactly like Yassen. There's no doubt about it._

_So what if she does?_ another voice argued. _It's just a coincidence. _

Alex sighed. The last thing he wanted to be doing was arguing with himself.

He followed Anya as she walked out of the school. Then he realised once again how ridiculous the whole thing was! Yassen Gregorovich was dead anyway!

Alex shook his head at his stupidity and rode home on his bicycle.

x.x.x

'Hi, Yassen,' said Anya, walking in and smiling. The sadness hadn't disappeared from her eyes yet, but at least she was smiling. Yassen wondered if he'd still be where he was if he had someone to look after him.

_Don't go there,_ he warned himself.

'Good afternoon, Anya,' he replied.

'Yassen… I was wondering…' she said, her voice trailing off. Anya wasn't sure whether she should ask him.

Anya, though saddened by her father's death, was still observant as ever. And she was wondering about Yassen. The only thing she really knew about him was that he didn't use his real name, either in life or in official documents, he was a ballet dancer and that his parents were dead.

Anya had spotted a gun at his hip before, but she'd kept her mouth shut. She'd also seen the scar on his neck – it was dead straight, and didn't look like an accident. And why did he need to learn Japanese?

'Yes?' said Yassen, his voice carrying throughout the whole room.

'What do you work as?'

Yassen had been expecting the question. Anya was sure to be curious, and Yassen had seen her glancing at his gun that he'd been so careless to wear in front of her. She was probably also wondering why he was learning Japanese.

'I don't work,' said Yassen. It wasn't a lie.

That wasn't the answer Anya expected.

'Oh, ok,' she said, not going to ask further.

x.x.x

That night, Yassen passed Anya's room on his way to his own, and smiled at the silence.

x.x.x

'Morning,' said Anya, taking a seat opposite her uncle. Her breakfast was already on the table, and she started to eat. Yassen watched her fondly.

Anya glanced at her watch and her eyes widened in horror. It was already 8:45!

'What's wrong?' asked Yassen.

Anya swallowed her last spoonful quickly and jumped up, grabbing her school bag.

'I'm late,' she said, about to head out the door.

'I'll send you to school then,' offered Yassen.

'Really? Thanks,' she said. They both left and hopped in the car. It was a jet black Porsche Cayenne, and Anya was impressed, though she didn't show it.

Yassen started up the car and it purred like a cat. As he drove, both of them were silent. Before long, they had arrived at Brookland. Yassen pulled up by the side of the school and unlocked the doors.

'Thanks, Yassen,' said Anya, smiling. Yassen smiled back.

She opened the door and hopped out. In that brief moment, Yassen's face was revealed.

Alex Rider gasped.

There was no way what he just saw could have been real.

Anya Gregorovich had hopped out of her car, and in the driver's seat, sat Yassen Gregorovich himself.

_No way!_ thought Alex. _You're imagining things._

He looked back and saw Yassen looking back at him.

Yassen didn't know which school Alex Rider had gone to, but he'd never expected it would be the same as Anya's. Alex had seen him; Yassen was sure of that. Whether Alex would believe his eyes was another. Yassen knew that Alex had thought he had died, and surely MI6 wouldn't tell Alex that Yassen was still alive. Everything would be easier for them if Alex believed he was dead.

And the other question was – why was Alex at school? Didn't he look for Scorpia? Didn't they accept him? Yassen realised his last words could have been dangerous for Alex to take on, and slightly regretted telling Alex anything about Scorpia, now knowing how much better a normal life was.

But Alex was still at school.

Perplexing.

Alex was gobsmacked. Yassen Gregorovich was DEAD. What was wrong with him? Was he going insane? Did Anya's father just have an uncanny resemblance to Yassen?

_No, _thought Alex. _It's definitely Yassen._

The fact that Yassen was alive hit Alex at that moment.

Yassen was alive!

He didn't _die_ trying to save Sabina and Alex – he was _alive!_

The man who had killed Ian Rider was alive.

The man who had saved Alex's life was alive.

This realisation left Alex in a whirlwind of emotions that he couldn't even begin to understand. He was angry, because he'd been sad about Yassen's death when Yassen was actually alive! He was angry because Ian Rider's killer was still alive! Yet he was happy he hadn't caused the death of Yassen himself, and happy that there was still someone to tell him more about his father. He was irritated, because Yassen had already left and there was no way to catch up to him now, and irritated because he'd been so stupid. He was angry at MI6 for not telling him Yassen was alive! He was also confused as to why Yassen was still alive.

Alex didn't try to chase after the car; Yassen had already left the school and there was no way Alex could keep up. Alex stopped himself, tried to suppress all the emotions and try to talk to Anya.

'Hi,' he said, slipping into place next to her. He smiled at her.

Anya studied the boy standing next to her. He had a head of fair hair that was hanging messily – a few strands tickled his nose, but he didn't seem to notice. And his eyes – they were brown eyes that had seen too much. But why was he talking to her?

'Hi,' she replied, half–smiling at him.

Alex wondered what he should say next. It would sound _really_ suspicious if he just asked her straight out whether she knew Yassen Gregorovich. He decided to try and befriend her.

'What's your name?' he asked, pretending that he didn't know.

'I'm Anya Gregorovich.'

'Cool. I'm Alex Rider.' He held out his hand for her to shake. She shook it and smiled awkwardly.

'I… have to go,' she said quickly. She smiled sadly at him and walked away.

_Well that went well,_ Alex thought sarcastically.

'Alex!' said the familiar voice of Tom Harris. 'You trying to hook up with her? Not a good idea. Her dad just died,' he said.

'Really?' asked Alex. There was another clue to the puzzle.

'Yeah,' said Tom.

_Interesting,_ thought Alex. _Yassen had just "died" as well._

x.x.x

Alex watched the clock as the hands turned slowly, bored out of his mind. He was in geometry class.

'So, if you multiply pi by the radius…'

Alex decided to devote his time to the matter of Yassen Gregorovich.

Now that he'd calmed down, and suppressed all his emotions, Alex started thinking clearly. He'd only seen "Yassen" from a great distance away, and there was no way he could be sure that it was Yassen. But Alex was absolutely sure the man in the car had been Yassen, or someone who looked unnaturally like him. Was it a coincidence that Anya's last name was Gregorovich?

No. Coincidences mean conspiracy, in the wise words of Alan Blunt.

_So should I go and ask MI6 whether Yassen actually died?_

Alex dismissed the thought. He didn't want to get involved with MI6. But he wanted to work out the puzzle. Anya looked almost exactly like Yassen. Alex had seen her in the car _with_ Yassen. That meant Yassen was alive.

But how could Yassen be alive?

Alex himself had seen him die…

Then Alex stopped. He had never seen Yassen die, only close his eyes, before Alex himself passed out.

But surely if he survived MI6 would have arrested him! And even Yassen wasn't good enough to escape from a hoard of agents with a bullet wound.

What had happened?

And if Yassen was alive, shouldn't MI6 have told him anyway?

_There is a possibility that they didn't…_ thought Alex. _It would be easier for them, especially considering his connection with Scorpia and my father…_

Alex made his decision. He would just ask Anya, and tell her she reminded him of someone, and ask her whether she was related to that person.

The bell rang, and Alex heard Tom whisper 'Hallelujah!'. Alex got up from his seat immediately and followed Anya out.

'Hi again,' he said, smiling at her.

'Hi,' she said tiredly. She didn't seem to want to talk to him.

'I was wondering… are you related to someone called Yassen Gregorovich? 'Cause I used to know him and you look a lot like him, and you know your last name…'

Anya looked surprised, and then tried to hide it, but Alex caught the expression before it disappeared. She had recognised the name Yassen.

'No, I don't know anyone called Yassen Gregorovich,' lied Anya, eyeing him suspiciously. What was this boy up to? And how did he know Yassen's real name?

'Oh, right,' said Alex, pleased with his findings.

Anya gave him one last confused look, and walked away.

Who was this boy, and how did he know Yassen's real name?

And how did he connect her with Yassen, anyway? She'd only known Yassen for a few weeks.

She made a mental note to ask Yassen about the curious boy called Alex Rider.


	7. Yassen's Birthday

Thank you everyone for reviewing! I'm sorry for the long wait - I've been really sick and stuff.

Here's Yassen birthday - not very celebratory, though. And in the next chapter, I PROMISE, the action will start.

Happy reading!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Today was the 21st of November. Yassen's birthday.

Normally he just acknowledged it, and continued on with life. His birthday had not been a celebration since he was 13 years old. Yassen simply saw it as another day in life. One that he happened to be born on many years before.

_It was Yassen's sixth birthday. The 21__st__ of November, 1972._

'_Happy Birthday, darling!' exclaimed his mother as he came down the stairs. Yassen smiled. He loved his birthday. He didn't know that in time he would treat it as any other ordinary day._

_His mother swooped down on him and kissed him on both of his cheeks. _

'_Here you go, Yassen,' she said, handing him a present. Yassen took it and grinned. He shook the present, wondering what was inside. He had an insatiable curiosity at this age – much like Alex Rider. _

'_Go on, open it, honey!' said his mother enthusiastically. Yassen ripped the wrapping paper off and found a soccer ball in the box. _

'_Thanks, mommy!' he said._

'_Aw, that's all right, honey,' she said, hugging him._

'_Who's the birthday boy?' boomed the deep voice of Yassen's father. Yassen smiled at his father's booming voice. He'd always hoped one day he'd end up with his father's voice. Little did he know all his voice would ever be in the future was emotionless and cold._

'_Happy Birthday, little Yassen,' said his father, ruffling Yassen's hair. Yassen grinned at his father. He was obviously hiding the present behind his back._

'_Now, where's the present, Yassen?' asked his dad, smiling cheekily at him._

'_It's behind your back, daddy!' said Yassen, swerving around to reach it._

'_Good try, son, good try,' said his father, chuckling. 'You'll have to be a little quicker than that.'_

_Yassen's father didn't know Yassen would one day grow up to be one of the quickest moving assassins in the world._

_He tormented Yassen by holding the present within his grasp and then pulling it away for a few minutes, before he handed his present to the beaming little boy._

_Yassen ripped off the paper once again, and grinned as he saw a water pistol. Yassen's dad didn't know Yassen would soon be an expert with the real thing. _

'_Thanks, daddy!' Yassen's father smiled and ruffled his hair._

'_Now, I have a question to ask you…' said Yassen's dad. The little Yassen was eager to hear it. Yassen's mother smiled at the way her husband managed to keep the attention of a 6 year old boy so effortlessly._

'_Yes, daddy?' _

'_What is it that you want to be when you grow up?' asked Yassen's dad, smiling at his son. _

'_I dunno,' said Yassen, shrugging._

'_Really?' asked Yassen's dad._

_Yassen nodded. _

'_What can I be?' he asked._

_Yassen's dad laughed._

'_You can be anything you want to, son. Anything you want.'_

Yassen could have been anything he wanted to be.

He chose to be an assassin.

_It was Yassen's tenth birthday. 21__st__ November, 1976. _

_His mother smiled sadly at him as he came down the stairs._

'_Happy Birthday, Yassen,' she said. Yassen sensed something was wrong. _

'_Thanks mum. Is everything alright?' he asked._

_His mother sighed. She seemed to be struggling for words._

'_I'm so sorry, Yassen. I hate to do this to you. But your father's just lost his job, and we don't have any presents,' she said, looking genuinely sorry. And she was. She knew how much Yassen loved his birthday, and it broke her heart to tell the boy that he didn't have any presents._

_Yassen paused for a moment._

'_That's alright, mum,' he said. 'Having food to eat and a place to stay is more important than presents.'_

_Yassen's mum burst into tears. _

'_You're such a good boy, Yassen,' she said, grabbing hold of him and hugging him tightly. Yassen returned the hug. _

'_I'm so sorry to do this to you, Yassen,' she said, smiling at her son with tears in her eyes._

'_It's alright, mum, it's alright.'_

_Yassen's dad came out._

'_Morning, birthday boy!' said Yassen's dad. It was incredible how he could be cheery even after he'd just lost his job and failed to buy his son a single birthday present. But that was what Yassen loved about his dad most. He just kept on going, smiling all the time. He dealt with whatever came his way and always maintained a positive attitude. At least while Yassen was around, anyway._

'_Morning, dad,' he said. _

'_I'm sorry about your present,' said Yassen's dad, as a faint flicker of sadness crossed his face. Yassen shook his head._

'_No, it's really alright, dad.' _

'_Son, I'm so proud of you,' said Yassen's dad. He didn't know how much the words meant to Yassen when he said them. _

Yassen felt bitter tears forming in his eyes. He willed them to disappear.

_Are you still proud of me now, father?_ he asked silently. _Are you still proud of me now?_

_It was Yassen's fourteenth birthday. 21__st__ November 1980._

_It was the day his parents died._

Yassen stopped himself from thinking about his fourteenth birthday further, but it was too late. The tears were already in his eyes. He felt them run down his face and splash onto the wooden table below. He cursed himself. He didn't need to get emotional. Emotional was the one thing that Yassen never was. Now was not a time to start.

Anya opened the door silently. She'd come in to ask Yassen a question – but stopped when she heard sounds of water, or something, dripping. Was that Yassen in there? Was he… crying?

She peeked further in and her suspicions were confirmed.

She debated whether she should go in and talk to him, or just leave and pretend she'd never seen. She highly doubted that Yassen wanted to be seen crying.

_So what am I meant to do?_ she asked herself.

'Anya.' Yassen turned around and he seemed completely normal. There were no signs that he had been crying only moments before.

Anya thought she'd been stealthy enough, but it's hard to remain unnoticed in the presence of one of the best assassins in the world.

'Yeah, I… uh, um…' she stuttered. Yassen knew she'd seen him. What was she meant to say?

'Did you want something?' asked Yassen.

'I, uh, no, nothing,' she said.

Yassen looked disbelieving. He looked at her, indicating for her to go on.

'Well… I was just wanting to ask…' In seeing her uncle cry, Anya had forgotten what she was meant to ask Yassen. Something about… no, she couldn't remember. What would cause Yassen to cry? Her uncle was the strongest person she'd ever known – what could shake him?

'Anya, I have something to tell you,' said Yassen. 'I know you saw me. I don't deny it. But in the face of anything, you should still maintain your composure.'

Anya nodded.

'Good.'

Anya smiled awkwardly and left, still wondering what Yassen was crying about.

x.x.x

Anya tossed and turned in her bed, unable to get the image of Yassen crying out of her mind. He didn't cry like a normal human being; his face didn't show any emotion – and she would not have noticed his sadness if tears hadn't been dripping from his eyes. Still, Anya knew he was crying.

By midnight she had come up with a host of different ideas, and by one o' clock she'd picked out the most likely. Anya remembered when she had asked Yassen about his parents – he'd responded with a cold 'no.' Also, she noticed that he seemed to have empathy unusual for his character when it came to the matter of her father. Tears started to creep into her eyes as she thought of her father – she willed herself to stop thinking about him.

Anya wondered how Yassen had lost his parents – but there was no way she was going to ask him.

x.x.x

The next morning, Anya remembered what she was meant to ask Yassen.

'Good morning, Anya,' said Yassen, as Anya came down the stairs. He was up before her, as usual, reading through his Japanese book. Anya smiled gently at him, not wanting to bring up yesterday's incident. She'd remembered what she wanted to ask him, though.

'Hi Yassen. I was wondering… do you know a boy called Alex Rider?'

Yassen had been expecting the question, ever since he had learnt that Alex attended Brookland. Surely he would have seen Anya with Yassen, and pieced that together with her last name and her physical appearance, and asked questions. He had only wondered how long it would have taken Alex to ask about it.

'What did he say about me?' asked Yassen. He was curious as to what Alex Rider thought of him now he knew he was alive.

'Nothing. He just asked me whether I knew someone called Yassen Gregorovich, and I said no. I was wondering how he knew your real name.'

'I know Alex Rider. He's a son of a friend of mine,' said Yassen.

'Oh, right,' said Anya. 'So should I tell him about you?' she asked.

Yassen considered. Alex already knew he was alive, Yassen was sure of that – Anya was not very good at keeping secrets. It would be interesting to see Alex trying to figure out the puzzle, and how Yassen survived, Yassen thought.

'No,' said Yassen. Anya nodded. 'Let's see what Alex will do.'


	8. Someone's After Anya

Author's note:

ACTION STARTS THIS CHAPTER:D.

Another thank you to everyone who reviewed and/or read this story! I really appreciate it!

By the way, who do you think 'the voice' is?

x.x.x

It was the end of another school day, and Alex had decided to follow Anya home, to confront Yassen and ask him about everything. Alex just hoped Yassen wouldn't try to shoot him. Which was a very likely possibility; even though he'd told Alex he loved him on Air Force One.

The school bell rang, and Alex slipped out of class quickly, following Anya through the corridor. Tom looked confusedly at Alex, wondering what he was up to this time. Tom knew, now, that it was definitely much better just not to ask.

As Anya exited the school, she looked back, as if aware someone was following her. Alex quickly hid behind a pillar. She looked confused for a moment, then kept on walking. Alex slid out from behind the pillar and resumed following her.

She walked around to the back of the school. Would Yassen pick her up in his car?

Anya looked around again, starting to get paranoid. She knew someone was following her, but she couldn't see them. She considered ringing Yassen for a moment, and asking him to pick her up, but she decided not to bother her uncle. She wasn't even sure – it was only a hunch.

Alex hid behind a bush.

Anya kept on walking, and Alex followed. She was obviously walking home. Would Yassen be home when she arrived?

And then something else rustled in the bushes next to Alex and he felt cold metal on the back of his neck. The touch was unmistakeable. It was a gun.

Someone was after Anya Gregorovich.

x.x.x

'Don't move,' hissed the person holding the gun. Alex didn't. From his vantage point, Alex could see Anya, but Anya couldn't see him. Not a good thing when someone's pointing a gun at you, and probably her, to come in time.

A group of armed men jumped out of the bushes and walked silently behind Anya. Alex wanted to warn her, but he knew if he did anything, he'd be shot. He couldn't do anything that his captor wouldn't see – seeing as Anya didn't know he was there and couldn't see him in the bushes anyway. Last time he'd managed to escape at gunpoint due to someone else – now he was isolated and there was nothing he could do. Plus, Alex thought that this time he was completely useless to the men – and so could get shot at any moment.

Alex simply had to wait and watch silently.

x.x.x

The uneasy feeling in Anya's stomach grew, and, paranoid, she turned around.

And screamed.

There were a group of half a dozen men, all tall and muscly – with guns.

She started to run.

Not fast enough, however. The men ran after her and attacked her. The road was an empty one, no one there except Alex, Anya and the men.

Anya cried out, hoping someone else was present to help her – hopefully Yassen, with his gun. But no one was there. Terror overtook her, but amongst the fear she managed to remember the basics of self defence. She lashed out with her foot, managing to kick one of the men in the balls. He keeled over in pain and hit his head on the pavement, but there were still at least five men standing around her, trapping her in a circle. And they were armed.

Anya attempted to kick one in the head with a roundhouse kick, but the youngest of the men grabbed her leg and made her lose her balance. He grabbed her from behind, and with one arm pinned her arms to the side of her body, with the other held a gun to her head.

'Don't move.'

'You could've just shot her in the leg, Viper,' said one of the other men.

'He may not want her harmed, Locust,' said the one pointing a gun at Anya.

Anya already hated the "he" they were referring to. She didn't have any options – the gun was already at her head. She tried to think of any possible ways out of this – she couldn't see any. The place was deserted, and there were at least 5 men – armed with guns and far stronger than her.

'Where's Shark?' asked another.

'Get up, and put your hands up,' ordered the man holding the gun to Alex's neck. Alex did so, looking at the men holding Anya and memorising their faces instantly. Viper, who seemed to be the leader, was pointing the gun at Anya. Even though he looked like the youngest, around 20 years old, the others turned to him, and Alex thus assumed he was the leader. He had curly brown hair and bright green eyes and would have looked handsome if he wasn't pointing a gun at a teenage girl. Locust was older, in his late twenties, and was large and bulky, with jet black hair, a pale face and black eyes. Alex couldn't see the man on the pavement too well, but he saw that there was blood coming out of somewhere from him; Alex smiled to himself. He studied the last two and tried to remember as best he could their appearances – if by some miracle he got out of the situation.

'Caught another, did you, Shark?' asked Locust, smirking.

'Yeah, but I don't know who he is. Found him skulking around in the bushes.'

Anya was tempted to call out to Alex, but saying his name would only give the men more information, which she didn't want to do. Plus the man holding her might have used that as an excuse to kill her.

'What do we do with him?' asked Shark. Locust's face twisted into a malicious grin.

'Bring him along for the ride, I say,' said Locust.

'Empty his pockets,' ordered Viper, as he unzipped Anya's pocket and took out her mobile phone and iPod. Shark emptied Alex's pocket, taking out his mobile phone and a tube of zit cream. Alex swore under his breath.

'And here's Dolphin,' said Locust, grinning evilly. A van pulled up by the side of the road and Shark jabbed Alex with the gun. Obligingly, Alex walked in the direction he was being prodded. One of the other men opened the door to the van and Alex was thrown roughly in, Shark's gun still pointing at him. Viper steered Anya towards the van and threw her in as well. Quickly they closed the door, Locust giving them a superior smile before they did. Alex heard the engine's start, and wondered how on earth he would get himself out of this one.

x.x.x

Yassen glanced at his watch. It was 3:15. Usually Anya would be home by this time, but she wasn't. Wary of any abnormalities due to his ex–job, Yassen stood up. He stepped out of the front door and looked around to see whether Anya was approaching. There was no sign of her.

Yassen sensed something was wrong, and his intuition was usually right.

He dialled Anya's mobile number on his cell phone and held it to his ear. It rang for a few seconds, and a cool female voice answered:

'Sorry, the number you have called is unavailable right now. Please leave a message–'

Yassen didn't wait for the woman to finish speaking. He hung up, ran upstairs and put his bullet–proof vest on, tucked an extra gun into his jacket and ran out the door.

He jumped into his car, started up the engine, and quickly made his way to Brookland. He decided to check the school first – maybe she had detention or something, but Yassen doubted it. He knew something was wrong. Otherwise she would have picked up her phone.

He came to a stop ­outside the school and ran to the front office.

Jane Bedfordshire was used to odd people coming to the school, especially since Alex Rider had come, but nothing could have prepared her for a tall, bulky man who had a gun at his hip running into the front office. It didn't help that Yassen was wearing a black jacket and black pants. She was startled, and didn't know whether she should call for help or first see what the man wanted.

'Did Anya Gregorovich leave school?' asked Yassen.

Miss Bedfordshire was flustered by the man's appearance, but checked the school activities that afternoon and the detention records.

'I assume so, since there are no after school activities today and her name is not on the detention records,' said Miss Bedfordshire. 'Shall I-'

Miss Bedfordshire didn't finish her question before the man ran out the door. She raised her eyebrows for a second, then turned back to her work.

x.x.x

Yassen forced himself to remain calm. He didn't kid himself into thinking there wasn't something wrong, something a normal parent would normally do, but instead spent his thoughts on where Anya could be.

Obviously something drastic had happened. Yassen decided to head back home to see whether Anya had tried to contact him. He jumped back into his car and drove home, but stopped by the side of the road as he spotted something unusual.

There was blood on the pavement.

_Not a lot of blood,_ thought Yassen, quite relieved. _But still blood._

He hopped out of the car to have a look, and upon further inspection, he decided it was blood from someone scraping themselves on the pavement, not a bullet wound. Had someone simply fallen off their skateboard or bicycle, or did this have something to do with Anya?

As he spotted the tyre marks on the road, and felt that they were still warm, he knew it was the latter.

But just what was he going to do?

He thought of the answer a few seconds later.

Alex Rider.

x.x.x

Yassen rushed home, and was disappointed to find a perfectly normal home, devoid of ransom notes. If he had a location, he could take out any enemies and bring back Anya. Right now, he had nothing.

He pulled out a phone book from a shelf, and began his search. It was an old edition, almost a year old, and was printed before Ian Rider had died. So Yassen searched in the 'R' section. He knew Alex would have to live somewhere around here, to be attending Brookland, but Yassen just hoped that he was in the directory.

Hurriedly he found the R page, and found what he was looking for.

"Rider, I, 9 Jacob Street, Chelsea."

Yassen memorised the address instantly and made his way to Alex's house.

x.x.x

Jack Starbright was wondering where Alex Rider was.

It was unusual for him not to be home by know (when he actually was at school), but Jack knew that when it came to Alex, anything was possible. She just hoped it wasn't something dangerous, or something to do with MI6.

_If only Alex would be like a normal teenager,_ she thought, _and just be sneaking off to his girlfriend's house or something._

But Jack knew that Alex was doing nothing of the sort.

She decided not to call him; it could endanger him, especially if he was concentrating on something that was a life or death situation. Jack hoped that it wouldn't be, but she knew, deep down, that it was.

And then she spotted the black Porsche Cayenne in the driveway. Having a bad feeling about it, she quickly grabbed a kitchen knife and stood with her back to the wall next to the front door.

There was a knock at the front door, and, tentatively, Jack opened it. She was faced with a tall blonde man, dressed all in black, with a gun at his hip. She didn't like the look of this man, and so held up the knife.

Yassen assumed this was the girl that looked after Alex. Why was she carrying a kitchen knife? Had something happened to Alex as well?

'Where is Alex Rider?' asked Yassen. Jack trembled.

'What do you want with him?' she asked bravely.

'I need to ask him a question.'

'Who are you?'

'Tell him that it's Yassen Gregorovich,' said Yassen, looking at Jack with his cold gaze.

'He's not here at the moment,' said Jack, starting to step backwards.

'Where is he?'

'I'm not going to tell you!' Jack exclaimed, brandishing the knife at the man.

'I'm not going to be scared by a woman brandishing a kitchen knife, so just tell me where Alex is.' Yassen turned over the facts in his head. Alex wasn't at home – shouldn't he be? The woman herself didn't look like she knew where Alex was. If Alex was missing, something had definitely happened, and it had probably concerned Anya.

Jack didn't answer, still waving the knife about.

'If Alex is missing, I need to know,' said Yassen. 'I'm from MI6,' he added, hoping the woman would tell him more if he slipped that in.

'MI6?!' exclaimed the woman. 'Alex _is_ missing! And it's probably all your fault! Stupid-' Jack launched into a marathon of swear words, but Yassen couldn't hear anything. Alex was missing as well. Could the two incidents be linked?

_Yes,_ thought Yassen, _especially seeing as Alex would have wanted to find out more about Anya ever since he saw me in the car. He could have followed her… then something could have happened._

Yassen felt like kicking himself. He hadn't gotten anywhere, except now he knew another one of his loved ones was missing. He closed the door on a surprised Jack, and left.

x.x.x

Yassen heard his phone ringing. He looked at the ID of the caller – it was a private number. Tentatively, he pressed the green button to answer the phone and held it to his ear.

'Yassen Gregorovich?' asked a voice, that sounded familiar to Yassen, but in this dilemma, he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before.

The bigger question was, how did they know his real name, when the rest of the world thought that Yassen Gregorovich was dead?

'What do you want?' he asked coldly. Did the phone call have something to do with Anya? Almost certainly, Yassen believed.

'One of our agents just told me that you are actually alive, and I didn't believe it until now!' exclaimed the person, and as the voice said that sentence, Yassen figured out who it was.


	9. Coffee and Fake Smiles

Julia Rothman.

'That's all very well, Mrs Rothman,' said Yassen, trying to keep his voice emotionless, 'but I don't have time to talk with you at the moment.'

'Oh, Yassen, what are you doing then? I'm sure I could help you with it,' said Mrs Rothman. Yassen wanted to chuck the mobile phone on the floor and break it, or hang up, but maybe Julia Rothman was right.

'Have you heard of a girl called Anya Gregorovich?' asked Yassen.

'Anya Gregorovich…' said Mrs Rothman. 'Daughter of Igor, your cousin? Yes, I have,' said Mrs Rothman. Yassen held his breath for a moment. 'Didn't Igor die recently?'

'Yes,' said Yassen. 'Do you know anything about the whereabouts of the child?'

Mrs Rothman smiled in her office. A plan was formulating in her head, and it was a good one, too. She giggled to herself, holding the mobile phone away from her mouth so that Yassen couldn't hear.

'Why do you ask that, Yassen?' she asked sweetly. Yassen hesitated for a moment before telling her, but if Scorpia knew about Anya, maybe they could help him find her, and he'd need to tell Mrs Rothman why he wanted to know where the child was for her to tell him anything.

So he told her.

'Igor left the girl to me. She's under my care now,' said Yassen.

'Oh, Yassen! You didn't _lose_ her, did you?' asked Mrs Rothman, laughing lightly. Yassen felt an intense dislike for the woman at that moment, but forced himself to keep his emotions in check.

'I think something may have happened to her,' he said calmly.

'Yassen, it just so happens that I'm in London at the moment!' said Mrs Rothman, 'So I might get some agents on her trail for you, just as a favour between old friends.'

Yassen knew she wasn't doing it just for a favour. She wanted something from him, and after she did this for him, she'd get it. Yassen didn't care. If anyone could find Anya, it would be Scorpia.

'Thank you,' said Yassen, actually meaning it for once in his life.

'Would you like to meet up for, let's say, afternoon tea, so we can discuss this in person?' asked Mrs Rothman. 'The café on Kent Street, let's say?'

'Yes,' said Yassen. The last thing Yassen wanted to do was to meet Mrs Rothman again, or have any contact with Scorpia, but he knew he had no choice.

Mrs Rothman clapped her hands together.

'That's wonderful! I'll see you there in half an hour, let's say? So good to hear from you again, Yassen!' she trilled, hanging up.

Sighing slightly, Yassen started driving to Kent Street.

x.x.x

'_Hello, Yassen,' said the soothing voice of Julia Rothman. Yassen had run away as he'd intended, and now found himself at the heart of an organisation called Scorpia._

'_Hello,' said Yassen stiffly. _

'_I'm sorry to hear your parents have died. You have my condolences,' she said, looking him in the eye. Yassen didn't answer. She continued. 'I hear you would like to work for us? We'll take good care of you.' She smiled sweetly at Yassen, but he was not to be fooled. The woman reminded him of a snake. Yassen could tell she didn't give a damn about his parents, or him, for that matter._

_Mrs Rothman continued, flicking stray strands of hair out of her face._

'_I'm always glad to welcome new recruits,' she said. 'And from what Max tells me, you're very talented.' She let out a tinkling laugh._

_Yassen wasn't fooled by the flattery._

'_So, will you accept our offer?' she asked, flashing another smile at Yassen. _

_It was with great difficulty that Yassen said,_

'_Yes.'_

x.x.x

'Yassen!' called out Julia Rothman, as she saw him approaching. She ran to him, hugged him and kissed him on either cheek. Yassen reluctantly did the same.

There were a few men standing behind her, with the stern look that people carrying guns usually wore. Yassen assumed they would be the agents helping to find Anya. He gave them a polite nod.

'So, Yassen, a father now, are you?' she said, laughing and sitting in a seat. With a lazy flick of her hand, she called a waiter, which came to her immediately.

'I'll have an iced coffee with cream, and a croissant. What would you like, Yassen?' she asked.

'Nothing.'

'Oh, come on, Yassen!' said Mrs Rothman. 'It's on me.'

Yassen didn't say anything. There was no time to be wasted while Anya and Alex were missing. He wanted to strangle Mrs Rothman for being so dense. Though, maybe dense wasn't quite the right word. Yassen suspected that she _wanted_ to torture him by making him wait. It would be so typical of her.

'And a cappuccino,' she said, ordering for Yassen.

The waiter nodded and left.

'So, Yassen, how have you been?' she asked, smiling sweetly.

'Very well, thank you,' said Yassen, knowing he would have to play her games if he wanted to get anywhere. Yassen knew Mrs Rothman well after working for 20 years with her.

'So what actually happened with that awful job with Damian Cray? I hear he died, didn't he?' said Mrs Rothman. The men were still standing behind her; they were gaining many suspicious looks from passers-by.

'He shot me,' said Yassen truthfully. 'Alex killed him, but I don't know how. Something about a trolley.'

'You got shot?' said Mrs Rothman, faking sympathy.

'Yes,' said Yassen, wanting to add 'that's what I said' at the end of the sentence.

'Oh, you poor thing!' exclaimed Mrs Rothman. 'Did it hurt?'

Yassen suppressed he urge to punch Mrs Rothman in the head. _Of course it hurt! It was a bullet wound, for heaven's sake!_

'Pain is irrelevant. So what do you know about Anya?' asked Yassen, trying to get to the point without offending Mrs Rothman.

'Always to the point, aren't you, Yassen?' she said, laughing. 'Alright then.' She lowered her voice so that only Yassen could hear her. 'Her father was a scientist, and from what we know, he was employed by a terrorist group called &. They generally want world domination. What a silly goal!' She laughed. 'Why bother with controlling the world? I think it would be a hassle more than anything, don't you, Yassen?' she said, smiling at him.

Yassen nodded, wanting her to go on.

'Anyway, Igor had been developing a deadly poison that was undetectable before or after the time of death. As you can imagine, there would have been a great desire for this among many criminal groups.'

'Did you want any?' asked Yassen. Mrs Rothman laughed.

'Of course we wanted some, Yassen, but he died just as soon as he'd perfected it, and no one knows where he performed his experiments and kept the poison. We suspect that & had him eliminated to clear up loose ends.'

Yassen felt sick. Anya's dad had been killed 'to clear up loose ends.' The girl was put through something no child should be, simply because of the whims of a terrorist group that wanted to be careful. What made Yassen feel really repulsed was that he could have caused destruction like that during his assassinations. He'd never thought about it that way before. He used to think that death was everywhere, and it did not matter whether the people he killed were dead or alive, apart from the generous benefits he would receive if they were dead. But now, he knew that each person had someone, somewhere, who loved them more than themselves, and losing that person would cause them much grief and sadness. Yassen hated to think about what he'd done.

'Yassen, are you alright?' asked Mrs Rothman, bringing Yassen back to reality.

'Yes, I'm fine,' he lied. He wanted to throw up.

'It's been a while since Igor died, and we still haven't seen any action from &. They could be planning a long term mission, but I doubt it. They are a very proactive group, and do not like waiting. No, I suspect that Igor had not given them the real poison, for whatever motives he had. Naturally, & would be enraged. And since Anya is the last link to Igor, that is where I suspect she is.'

'In the hands of &?' asked Yassen. Everything fitted perfectly. Yassen was happy that he had found the cause but that was suppressed quickly by a blanket of anxiety. Anya hadn't just gone to a friend's house, or been kidnapped for money from Yassen. They wanted to get _information_ out of her – information she almost certainly did not know. Which would result in death, evidently.

'Yes. Michael Smith, the head of &, is currently stationed in London. As we were school friends, we've kept in touch over the years. I know his address. I'm sure we could find Anya for you, Yassen,' said Mrs Rothman, smiling.

'Thank you,' said Yassen. 'And what do you want from me in return?' he asked.

'Oh, Yassen, never one to accept a favour, were you? I said this was a favour, but if you mention that, we'd be delighted to have our best agent back…'

Yassen knew that was coming, and he guessed he'd have to accept it.

'Alright, Julia,' he said. Mrs Rothman clapped her hands together.

'Good! Paul, William and Jeremy here will help you,' she said, indicating to each of the men behind her. Yassen nodded.

'Thank you, Julia,' said Yassen, sincerely, as he stood up.

'Anything for an old friend, Yassen,' she said in honeyed tones. Yassen gave her a polite, fake smile, and left with the men.


	10. Too Much James Bond

Happy Easter everyone!

Sorry for the short chapter - I had a MASSIVE school essay (2000 words) to do over the weekend, and didn't have much time to write!

Anyway, happy reading!

-Lauren

x.x.x

'Shh,' ordered Alex, as Anya was shouting and screaming

'Shh,' ordered Alex, as Anya was shouting and screaming. She'd been carrying on like that for the past 10 minutes, and it was really starting to irritate Alex. Noise was good to attract attention, but Alex hardly thought that her screams could be heard through the van doors and over the engine. Plus she was banging on the doors with her hands, which had started to bleed.

'No one can hear us, and I need to hear myself think. And you may need your hands in the future,' said Alex firmly. Anya stopped and sat down quietly.

'Fine. What plan are you thinking up then?' she asked, boring into Alex with her cold blue gaze. Alex shuddered – she was _too_ much like Yassen. Alex settled on the theory that Anya was Yassen's daughter, even though there was one major flaw – Alex could not see Yassen loving anyone enough to have a baby with them.

'I don't know yet,' said Alex. 'I haven't been able to hear myself think.'

'I think our best bet is when we get out of here, and all these hit men go away,' she stated. 'If that ever happens,' she added, frowning.

'Well they were definitely after you,' said Alex, thinking.

'Yeah, but why?' asked Anya.

'I was hoping you could tell me that,' said Alex, frowning.

'I have no idea,' said Anya. 'I suppose they'll tell us when we get to wherever we're going.'

'They'll tell _you_,' Alex corrected. 'You heard them. '_He_ may not want her harmed.' That means you're indispensable, for the moment anyway. I, however, am probably going to get shot once we arrive. I'm a witness that needs to be disposed of.'

'That's a blunt way of putting it,' said Anya.

'It's true. They'll either kill me, or use me to get at you, which won't really work, seeing as you hardly know me,' said Alex matter-of-factly.

'And you think I'm just going to let you die?!' exclaimed Anya, shocked by how little Alex thought of her. 'I do have a conscience, you know.'

'I know. Imprisonment is better than being dead. So when we get out of here, if they try and take me away, can you say 'No! Leave him alone!' or something like that?'

'Sure,' said Anya. 'How do you know all this?'

Alex suppressed an insane desire to laugh. Now was not the time, what with 6 armed men holding them captive.

'I watch too much James Bond,' lied Alex.

Anya looked at him curiously, almost sure he was lying, but decided now was not the time to argue with her only ally.

Alex decided to ask the million dollar question.

'So how are you related to Yassen?' he asked, hoping she would answer. It probably wouldn't help them escape, but it would satisfy his curiosity.

Anya paused. Should she tell him? Yassen said 'just to see what Alex would do', but she supposed the circumstances had changed a little.

'He's – he's my uncle,' she said.

Ah. Alex should have guessed that. He nodded.

Silence enveloped them, along with their own thoughts, until the engine came to a shuddering halt and the door was opened. Locust's gun was already pointing at the two of them as he said gruffly,

'Get out.'

Anya scrambled out first, and almost immediately Viper grabbed hold of her wrist with an iron grip. Anya tried to pull away but Viper was too strong. Locust chuckled, and Anya glared at him.

'What do you want with me?!' she asked angrily, twisting and turning to try and get at Locust. Viper grabbed her other wrist and twisted her arms behind her back. Meanwhile, Shark grabbed Alex and held a gun to him.

'What do we do with this one?' he asked, looking to Viper for an answer.

'Whatever you want,' said Locust, grinning. Viper looked at him dangerously, reminding Locust with his eyes that Viper was the one in charge. Locust stepped back instinctively.

'Leave him alone!' shouted Anya, struggling against Viper to no avail. Locust grinned evilly.

'He may be of some use,' said Locust, looking down at Alex. Viper shot Locust another dangerous look and Locust closed his mouth.

'We'll take him to the boss and he shall decide,' said Viper firmly. Locust nodded obligingly as they led the two children away.


	11. Michael Smith

Hey guys!

Thank you to EVERYONE who reviewed - it's really appreciated. Here's a massively long chapter to celebrate 60 reviews :D.

2 questions -

1. Do you want a sequel to this?

2. Has anybody noticed that FanFiction is doubling their first sentence in their documents? It's happened twice already.

Anyway, happy reading!

-Lauren

x.x.x

William had hailed a cab and the three assassins were sitting inside – the taxi driver completely unaware that any of his three customers could kill him almost instantly.

'Where would you like to go?' he asked, in a heavily accented Italian voice. He was a plump, jolly man, who would be smoking a cigar if the intimidating blond man had not shot him a deathly look as he spotted the cigar; so the taxi driver had put it out immediately.

William gave the address and the taxi driver started to drive. The three men sat in silence, and Yassen took the time to think. He was wary of William and Jeremy – he didn't trust Mrs Rothman, or her henchmen, as far as he could throw them.

Yassen was too busy thinking to answer, so Jeremy took the initiative and gave the address to the cab driver. Yassen immersed himself in his thoughts.

Anya was in danger. Terrible danger. Being an assassin himself, he knew what happened to kidnappees Yassen hardly thought she knew where this new poison was, or its ingredients, and she was probably going to be hurt if she didn't know. Yassen knew speed was needed more than anything else. The longer she was in their grasp, the more likely she was to be hurt. He had to do something about it, and quick. Mrs Rothman knew Michael, but there was no knowing where Anya was. Yassen had to do something, and quickly.

x.x.x

Panther, Smith's personal bodyguard, was standing outside Smith's room.

'Why, good afternoon,' Panther said, bowing slightly to Viper. Viper returned the gesture.

'Good afternoon. Is Smith busy at the moment?' Viper asked Panther, with a degree of respect. Panther too was a skilled assassin, unlike the others that Viper had to put up with.

'Not too busy for you, I expect,' replied Panther. 'Though he is rather busy at the moment.'

'Go in and tell him we have the package, and that we have an extra. Ask him what we should do with him.'

Panther nodded, bowed lightly and disappeared into the room.

Alex's eyes darted around the room, as he tried to think of a way out. Locust spotted his discomfort, and warned,

'Don't try anything. No one says you aren't disposable.'

Viper shot another dangerous look at Locust.

'I say he is, until Smith makes his decision,' Viper said authoritatively.

Locust rolled his eyes, but didn't make it too obvious in case Viper managed to spot him.

The door in front of them opened, and Panther reappeared.

'Smith says to lock up the extra and bring the girl to him.'

Anya shivered. She was about to meet the person who'd put her through this living hell, and she was scared to death about it – especially as she'd be alone. For some reason, being with Alex made her feel safer, but she knew it wouldn't last.

'Locust, take the boy,' Viper ordered.

'What about us?' asked Dolphin. Viper wanted to shoot all of them there, on the spot, but knew it wasn't a good idea.

'Go with Locust,' he ordered.

'All of us?' asked Shark.

'Yes, all of you,' snapped Viper. 'I'm more than competent to handle the girl, don't you agree?' he said. Viper was reluctant to let the others handle the boy – he seemed much smarter than the girl, and would probably form an escape plan, but he had no choice. If the boy escaped it would be less of a problem than if Anya did.

'Come on,' said Locust irritably, pushing Alex and walking away.

'I feel for you,' said Panther, casting a look at the other assassins.

'It'll be over soon,' said Viper, smiling slightly. Panther opened the door for them, and Viper pushed Anya into the room.

x.x.x

'Anya Gregorovich.'

The man standing in front of Anya looked more like a businessman than an evil criminal mastermind. Unfortunately for Anya, he was the latter, not the former. He was clean-shaven, wore an expensive designer suit and was sipping aged wine.

Anya didn't make an answer, apart from a death glare.

Alex had been taken away somewhere else, and Anya was alone in a room with Viper and "him". The big boss. Anya was scared, but she tried not to show it.

'Be polite,' hissed Viper, in her ear. Anya ignored him and stayed silent. She was sure that she would do something bad if she opened her mouth, so her game plan now was to keep silent and wait for Yassen, or someone, to appear.

'What a pleasure to meet you,' said Michael Smith. He was sitting in a plush Victorian-style chair, in a luxurious room that Anya assumed was his living room. There was a massive couch and a flatscreen plasma TV bigger than any Anya had ever seen before.

Anya stayed silent. Viper jabbed her with his gun, and she let out a squeal of pain. Michael smiled evilly.

'What do you want?' she asked haggardly.

'A very good question,' said Michael Smith, taking another sip of wine. 'But before I answer your question, let's be polite. You have my condolences about your father's death.'

Anya let out a low growl.

'Liar,' she hissed. 'You-' Viper twisted her arm and Anya bit her lip to avoid crying out.

'Oh, let's not be hostile, now!' said Michael.

Anya thought up a very rude reply but didn't say it.

'Since you are the guest, I shall answer your question. What do I want with you? Why, just a little chat,' said Smith, laughing.

Anya didn't answer, so Smith continued.

'Me and your father were great friends,' he continued, 'and I _so_ wanted to meet you. See, when your father died, there were a few things left unfinished…'

Smith's face lost its fake pleasant demeanour and his face twisted into a malicious expression. A few seconds later, he regained his composure.

'I just have a few questions to ask you, Anya, and then we'll both be on our way! How does that sound?' he said.

Anya narrowed her eyes.

'Anya, I must say, you look remarkably like your father.'

'You wouldn't know anything about my father,' she growled. Viper twisted her arm again, and she couldn't help crying out. Smith smiled.

'Shall we continue? I ask, Anya, that you answer all my questions truthfully and quickly, or we might have to do this the hard way,' said Smith, looking genuinely apologetic. 'Do sit down,' he said, motioning with his hands. Anya didn't sit, so Viper pushed her into the chair and held her down.

'That's better,' said Smith, smiling. 'Now, Anya. Let's move on, shall we?'

Anya gulped.

This was going to be bad.

x.x.x

Alex was trying to think of ways out of his situation, but he was stumped. He had no gadgets, no weapons, no form of communication, and was up against men twice his size, who were armed.

The only thing to his advantage was the fact that Anya had been taken away by the more proficient assassin. Alex could tell by the way he talked, walked and acted that Viper, though younger, was far more experienced than any of the others. Though Anya was only guarded by Viper, and Alex by Shark, Locust, and Dolphin, he wouldn't have swapped for the world. Utilising this, Alex decided to play a little trick.

He made a groaning noise and collapsed to the ground. Usually it's a bad idea to collapse in front of an enemy, but he knew he wasn't dispensable just yet. He groaned again in pain and made his eyes flicker up and down to look like he was about to have a seizure.

Just as he thought, the 3 assassins bent down to see what was wrong with him. In their squatting position, they were extremely unbalanced and had put down their guard.

Fast as lightning, Alex lashed out with his foot, catching Shark in the groin. He keeled over in pain. He caught Dolphin off his guard with a punch to the face, and his nose started to bleed. He pushed himself off the floor and kicked the stunned Dolphin in the head.

To his dismay, Locust had reacted almost instantly and stood up as soon as he'd seen him kick Shark. But, when Alex had kicked Shark, he'd dislodged Locust's gun.

'Good one, kid,' he said, shooting a glare at Alex as the circled each other around the fallen Shark and Dolphin. 'You think you're real smart, don't you?' Locust sneered. 'Well-' Locust didn't have time to finish off his sentence as Alex darted off as fast as he could. Alex knew the only advantage he had over Locust was speed – the larger man could beat him in one to one combat with both hands tied behind his back, and Alex had lost the surprise factor.

'You!' shouted Locust, running after Alex. Alex's problem was that he didn't know the place at all – and didn't know where the exit was. But he also knew that Locust wasn't as fast as him.

He figured that he would have to get to the ground floor. The lift was a definite no-no. The fire stairs would be a good option. Flinging open the door, Alex darted down the stairs, only sparing time to kick over a mop and bucket full of soapy water. He came to the bottom of the stairwell, hearing Locust swearing profusely as he followed closely behind. Alex pushed open the door, and a fire bell started to ring. This could work to his advantage or disadvantage – they may all think that there was a fire, and so then evacuate – along with Anya, or everyone could have been alerted to his escape, making it even harder.

Hearing Locust swear made him believe it was the former.

Maybe things were looking up after all.


	12. Fire Alarm

Hi guys!

Yay for school holidays! I'll be updating a lot more than usual, now.

Thank you again to everyone who reviewed - you're awesome!

Happy reading!

-Lauren

x.x.x

'I maintain that I know your father a lot better than you did,' said Smith.

Anya narrowed her eyes and looked defiant but didn't dare open her mouth.

'I wonder if you knew what he did,' continued Smith, unfazed by Anya's silence.

'He was a scientist,' said Anya, with gritted teeth, knowing Viper would do something to her if she didn't answer Smith.

'I see you know something,' said Smith, taking another sip of wine, a grin forming on his face. 'He was in fact a scientist, who made a very important discovery.'

Anya stayed silent and let Michael Smith continue with his tale. She hoped that he'd get so caught up in the tale he'd drop his guard, but she highly doubted it. It would also be helpful if she knew what kind of evil plan he had, if she ever escaped.

'Poisons were his speciality,' continued Smith. 'He and I had a deal. He provided me with his newest poison, and I would pay him money that could last him the rest of his life.'

'Which you obviously didn't!' shouted Anya, earning her a jab in the back from Viper.

'He didn't hold up his end of the bargain, either,' said Smith, a dangerously evil quality entering his voice. 'We in the perfect position! Each of our agents in every country in the world, just ready to take over. Poison that could never be detected. Within a decade, I could have been the ruler of the world!'

Smith jumped out of his chair and began gesturing madly. Anya could see that behind the dignified, sophisticated mask, Smith was an absolute madman. Viper, who had heard this speech many times before, simply listened quietly.

'Your father delivered the poison. We gave him half the money, the other half was to be given to him upon completion of our plan. We offered him Australia, but for some reason he didn't want to get too involved. And then we found out why – he'd tricked us!'

'My father wasn't a criminal!' shouted Anya, struggling in Viper's grip, not caring what he would do to her. She was so angry at Smith, she felt as if she'd never cool down. She had never been this angry ever before. Here was the man who had murdered her father, and he was crushing all her ideas about her own father. The worst thing was, Anya was quite sure that he wasn't lying.

'Your father wasn't a criminal, he was a coward!' shouted Smith back, approaching Anya and slapping her on the face. 'He betrayed us! Instead of the poison he promised us, we got cornflour!'

Smith was breathing deeply, his face red with rage. Anya's rage was not so evident, though it caused her to shake uncontrollably. If Viper hadn't been holding her down, she would have attacked Smith right there and then, regardless of the fact that he was probably a million times stronger than her and had a gun.

'Let me go!' she screamed at Viper, ready to launch herself onto Smith. Viper, however, only gripped her tighter.

'My father never would have worked with you!' shouted Anya angrily, making the chair she was sitting on shake. Smith knelt down so that their eyes were level.

'Your father isn't as perfect as you'd like to think,' said Smith poisonously. In his rage, he slapped her again,

And then, Anya spat in his face.

Smith's face grew even redder than before, and Anya realised that spitting wasn't the smartest thing to do, as her anger was slowly replaced with fear. Smith had a deadly look on his face.

Anya shook in her seat, wishing she hadn't done such a thing.

And then the fire alarm went off.

Almost immediately, as if a switch had been flicked, Smith sat back down and became cold and emotionless. He wiped the spit off with a silk handkerchief, and regained his composure.

'The fire alarm?' asked Smith, looking puzzled.

'Must we evacuate?' Viper asked. Smith narrowed his eyes.

'This will complicate things,' said Smith, frowning.

'The fire department and police will come,' said Viper.

'Then we must evacuate, and make it look like we never were here.' Smith spoke muffled words into his headset and stood up.

'Let's go,' he said, to Viper. Viper pulled Anya roughly out of the chair and flung her over his shoulder as Viper and Smith started to run out of the building. Anya didn't know whether this was a good thing or a bad thing, but at least something in her terrible predicament had changed.

x.x.x

Alex breathed in the beautiful fresh air as he kept running. And swore as he realised there was a fence all around.

He searched desperately for a break in the wire fence, or a door – but there was nothing. He ran around the side of the building, to find the whole building was surrounded by a fence. He spotted a door, but he saw a large lock on the door and didn't waste his time trying to open it. Locust was gaining quickly – Alex was faster, but Locust had more endurance.

He wondered whether he could find his way back to where they had first been brought, but the place was totally unfamiliar to him and he couldn't gain his bearings.

And there was another problem – Locust was now close enough behind him to start shooting.

Alex flung himself onto the ground to avoid getting shot, and Locust caught up to him. Alex tasted bitter defeat as he felt cold metal on his neck.

Locust swore, and jabbed him painfully with the gun.

'Don't _ever_ do that again,' he seethed. Alex tried to remain calm.

Out of the corner of his eye Alex could see other people leaving the building.

So they would have to evacuate – that was a good thing.

Alex just hoped that Locust wouldn't shoot him.

x.x.x

'Alex!' shouted Anya, spotting the boy fallen on the floor, with Locust sitting on him, holding a gun.

'Don't you _dare_ shoot him, Locust,' Viper said dangerously, turning around. Locust cast a glare at Viper, but followed his orders all the same. Locust stood up and dragged Alex up with him.

'We're evacuating,' Smith told Locust.

'It's a fake alarm,' said Locust. 'The boy set it off.'

Smith rolled his eyes.

'You complete ignoramus. 1. Why did you even _allow_ the boy to set off the alarm? 2. We have to leave anyway because the police and fire department will be here soon. Make yourself useful and light a fire.' Smith's voice had lost all of its fake pleasantness as he talked to Locust.

'But sir, Shark and Dolphin are still in the building,' said Locust.

'Then get them out! We don't want any evidence,' shouted Smith. Locust nodded.

'What about the boy?' Locust asked.

'You idiot! Just go, hurry up!' shouted Smith. Locust, startled, ran off.

Alex thought it would be a good chance to run, but there was nowhere to run, and Smith crept up on him and grabbed his arm with a surprisingly strong grip. Smith pulled out a gun and held it to Alex's head.

'That idiot,' muttered Smith, dragging Alex along as he walked towards the door in the fence. He pulled a set of keys out of his pocket, unlocked the door and he and Viper ran towards the black Hummer that was parked in the car park.

'Do you want me to drive?' Viper asked Smith as he unlocked the car.

'No. You look after those two,' Smith ordered sharply. Viper nodded and flung Anya into the car. Smith opened the other car door and pushed Alex in, and closed the door. Viper sat in the back seat, and Smith started to drive.


	13. High Speed Car Chases

Hey guys!

Guess what?

I finished writing this story! Now I just have to post the rest of the chapters - gradually of course :D.

Do you guys want a sequel?

Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Yassen knew something was wrong as soon as they arrived

Maybe it was the eerie quietness of the building, the complete lack of cars in the car park, or the fact that the fire alarm was going off.

Paul swore.

'They set off the fire alarm. The cops are going to be here soon,' he said.

'The taxi driver was oblivious to their troubles, as he happily held out his hand for money as he listened to the radio. Yassen did a routine check. There looked like there was actually a fire – since smoke was rising out of the windows. He could already hear distant sirens. They would not have left Anya in there to die – Yassen was sure of that, but Alex was another story. Yassen would just have to hope he could get out of there if he was in there. Yassen doubted it, however. Alex would be smart enough to find a way to make himself indispensable. What with all the training he had in these sorts of things, Yassen was quite glad Anya had Alex with her. There was nothing else unusual – and then Yassen saw it. A black Hummer sped past them, and though the windows were tinted, Yassen knew exactly who was inside.

Yassen moved quickly.

'Get back in, all of you,' he ordered. He pulled out his gun and held it to the cab driver's head. The man looked to him in absolute fear. Of course, Yassen, knowing that he probably had a family, would never have shot him now that he'd met Anya, but he needed the cab driver gone and intimidation was the best and fastest way.

'Get out.'

Holding his palms in the air, the cab driver slowly stepped out of the car. Yassen grabbed the collar of the cab driver's shirt and flung him onto the pavement, hopped into the driver's seat and started to drive.

The sound of car horns reverberated all around them as Yassen sped crazily and darted in and out of the lanes to keep up with the Hummer. Paul, Jeremy and William could only watch in amazement. The mystery Russian man was a far better driver than any of them.

Yassen ran a red light, only narrowly avoiding a crash. The Hummer was 3 cars ahead of him, a significant improvement from when he had first started. Yassen overtook the car in front of him and accelerated even more.

'Don't shoot,' Yassen ordered sharply.

Yassen saw a fire truck race past him.

As a boy, Yassen had always loved watching high speed car chases. As a man, Yassen had always loved being involved in high speed car chases.

Maybe rejoining Scorpia wouldn't be so bad after all.

x.x.x

Anya had taken to screaming again, until Viper had slapped his hand over her mouth.

'The taxi is following us,' Viper told Smith.

'Locust probably stole a cab,' said Smith. Viper didn't believe it, but knew better than to argue with his boss. Since the cab was a few cars behind them, Viper couldn't make out who was driving the car. Alex had also noticed that the cab was following them, and though it was probably Locust, he couldn't help but hope it was an undercover police car, or even better, Yassen.

x.x.x

Smith pulled up in front of anther high-rise building and got out of the car. Viper did the same, dragging both Alex and Anya out as well. Yassen didn't drive into the car park.

'Why aren't you going in?' asked Jeremy. Yassen knew that these were relatively new Scorpia agents, but he didn't think that they were _this _inexperienced.

'If we go in while they know we're there, they have the advantage. They have the hostage. Therefore we need the element of surprise.' Yassen didn't want to explain anything to them, but he knew they would stuff something up if he didn't tell them the plan.

A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

They waited in the cab, and watched Smith, Viper, Anya and Alex walk into the building. Yassen could tell just by looking at the young assassin that he was skilled. Not a thing eluded him – Yassen saw him glance back in the direction of the cab before walking in. That would make it all the harder to get Anya back, but, after all, Yassen was Scorpia's best agent.

'Here's the plan,' said Yassen, and the other 3 assassins gave him their attention. Yassen hated working with other people. He had to explain everything, and he also had to rely on them. Yassen hated relying on people – he was the only person he could ever trust. Along with Anya. 'There's security. Look. There are cameras on every level on the balcony, and probably more inside. We have to hope that no one's watching them, which is probably a likely possibility, due to their earlier fault in their main headquarters. But you see how they're pausing at the door? There's some sort of key code or scanning device, which means we can't take the front door. We'll have to get in through the back. Remember that we want to get Anya back, but we don't want any attention from the police. Because he's shaken, Smith will be on his guard – but we can use this to our advantage. He will jump at the smallest thing – because the police may have followed him here. One of you has to create a distraction, but don't let yourself get caught while you're at it. The other two and I are going to climb up onto the second level, and then find Anya and Alex. We take out Viper and Smith and whoever else is there, call the cops on them, and then get out of there. Can you remember all that?'

'Yes,' said Jeremy and William.

'I'll do the distraction,' offered Paul.

Yassen nodded.

'Make sure he gets suspicious, though that won't be too hard,' Yassen told Paul.

'We'll wait two minutes, and then start,' Yassen told them. He looked at his watch. It was already 5:45. They waited two minutes in silence, Yassen hoping that nothing had happened to Anya, and then sprung into action. Yassen, William and Jeremy crept around the back of the building, and Paul went the other way.

'How are we going to get onto the second floor?' asked William. Yassen didn't want to answer him, but he knew he had to.

'We'll climb,' he answered, enjoying the shocked expression on William's face.

They reached the rear of the building, all ignoring the security cameras. Yassen held out his hand, signalling for the other two to stop, as he listened for the indication that Paul's distraction had worked. A loud bang and shouting followed a few seconds later, and Yassen indicated for them to follow him.

x.x.x

'Someone followed us,' said Smith. He swore.

Viper knew what was happening, but he kept his mouth shut. If his boss thought something, there was no way to change his mind anyway – this was one of his failings and Viper knew one day he would be undone because of it. Apart from being an evil maniac, that is.

'Would you like me to go and investigate?' asked Viper.

'No, I'll send Locust,' said Smith. He spoke into his headset again, and sat back down calmly, folding his hands. Smith listened to his earphone connected to the headset, and his expression darkened.

'Watch those two,' Smith ordered Viper, before leaving the room. Anya was glad Alex was with her, she suspected that there was more to him than a boy who simply watched too much James Bond. He had, after all, managed to escape temporarily from Dolphin, Shark and Locust and set off the fire alarm.

Before Alex could react, Viper had grabbed him from behind and held a gun to his head.

'Now, look. Here's how it's going to go. If you try anything, he dies. If you think his life isn't worth it, then I'd like to see you outrun me,' he warned Anya dangerously. Anya nodded. 'And remember that death is one of the least painless things that could happen…'

Anya shuddered.


	14. Betrayal

Hi again guys!

Probably the most dramatic update yet...

Ta-da!

Thanks for reviewing again!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Yassen approached the building, as William and Jeremy watched, puzzled.

He took out a gun, and William and Jeremy's puzzled expressions deepened.

Yassen smiled, imagining what they would think once he shot.

He pulled the trigger, and a rope shot out of the end of his gun, and the hook on the end attached itself perfectly to the railing above. Yassen felt satisfaction – there were few people who could do that so perfectly on there first go, but then again, there was nobody else in the world like Yassen.

'Well, come on,' said Yassen, turning around and seeing their gobsmacked faces. He grabbed hold of the rope and started to climb.

The other two followed him up, and within a minute, they were all on the second floor. Yassen took the rope, pulled his "gun" up, rolled up the cord and tucked it back into his jacket.

He turned to the two other assassins, ready to give instructions.

'Now, remember, once we break in, everyone will know. An alarm will go off. Therefore, if we can't remain unseen, we have to make our entrance as known as possible. Do you have explosives?' Yassen asked.

'Can't we just break the window normally?' asked Jeremy. Yassen almost sighed with irritation.

'No. If we can't get in silently, we have to make as much noise as we can. Explosives are the best way to get people's attention. Do you have any?'

William and Jeremy opened their jackets; Yassen nodded.

'As soon as the alarm goes off, and you can see people coming, throw in your explosives,' Yassen said. 'Nothing fatal, though.'

'Why not?' asked Jeremy.

'Casualties will make things messy,' lied Yassen. 'After that, we'll look for Anya. Remember that there's a highly trained assassin with her, so have your guns out at the ready.'

William and Jeremy nodded.

'Ready?' asked Yassen.

He pulled out his gun and shot the glass. Immediately the alarm started to ring. Yassen could only imagine what was happening to poor Michael Smith's nerves at the moment, but he didn't feel sympathetic at all.

He took out his non-fatal explosives, lit them, and threw them into the room.

'Go!' he ordered the other two, and they ran along the balcony to avoid being blown up. On the other side of the building, Yassen shot at the glass again, and it broke. Running in, the 3 assassins were unhindered, all attention in the area where they had first broken in. They ran along the corridor, looking in to each door as they went past, but found no one in any of the rooms. Yassen was in the lead, as he was the fastest runner, and so he opened the fire door and bolted down the stairs. Their time was limited – they only had so much time before the panic wore off. The enemy had more numbers, and the hostages.

As they opened the door to the first floor, they were met with a large, bulky man with jet black hair, carrying an assault rifle. He looked irritated and was out of breath. He swore as he saw the three of them, and pointed his gun warningly at Yassen. Yassen, William and Jeremy had their guns on him.

'I will shoot him, I swear I will,' said Locust warningly. Yassen wasn't worried at all, however. He could see into the barrel of Locust's gun, and he didn't have any bullets left. Yassen suspected as much. The man looked like the type who shot first and asked questions later.

'I'd like to see you try,' said Yassen, and then shot him.

Not in the heart, neck or head, but just in the leg so that he couldn't move. Jumping gracefully over Locust, Yassen continued to run down the corridor. The first few doors were empty, but as he ran further, Yassen was faced with another two assassins. They didn't even have their guns out, so Yassen shot both of them in the stomach and continued. Jeremy and William were following closely behind him, but they couldn't keep up with Yassen's speed or steely determination.

As Yassen opened the last door in the corridor, he found himself faced with what he was looking for. Alex, Anya, and Viper. Viper quickly pulled out another gun and pointed it at Yassen. Yassen's gun was also pointed at Viper, and the two of them made direct eye contact.

'Yassen!' called out Anya, but he gave her a look telling her to keep her mouth shut. William and Jeremy ran in, and they too pointed their guns at Viper.

'Interesting,' said Viper. 'What a predicament we have here,' he mused.

'Take your gun away from the boy,' ordered Yassen.

'If you haven't already noticed, my gun is aimed at _your_ head,' Viper said.

'So are ours at yours,' replied Yassen.

'Ours?' I would think that such a skilled assassin, the best in the business, the one and only Yassen Gregorovich would at least know his enemies from his friends,' taunted Viper.

And as Viper said that, Yassen looked around to see that both William and Jeremy's guns were pointing at his own head.

Yassen's heart fell. In the current of emotions, he'd lost his logic. He trusted the other two far too much. And now he had to pay the price for his mistake.

'Put down your gun,' ordered Jeremy. Yassen didn't lower his gun. 'Now!' he ordered sharply. Yassen dropped his gun to the ground and held his hands up.

'Grab the girl,' Jeremy ordered William. William walked over to Anya and lifted her off the ground.

Yassen knew the situation was growing worse with each passing second, but he was a man that didn't miss anything, and he had spotted a vital element that he could use to his advantage. All he needed was to wait.

'Get her out,' ordered Jeremy. 'Go to headquarters. I'll handle this.' William nodded and dragged Anya out of the room. Yassen knew he had to act fast, before William and Anya arrived back at the Scorpia headquarters.

He made eye contact with Alex, telling him to get ready. Alex nodded slowly.

'Did you seriously believe Scorpia would _help_ you, Yassen? Did you-' Jeremy didn't finish as Yassen threw himself to the ground.

Both Viper and Jeremy shot, but their bullets didn't reach Yassen. Both bullets buried themselves in each of their chests.

When Viper and Jeremy had been pointing their guns at Yassen, they had all been in a straight line. Now that Yassen removed himself from the equation – they had shot each other. Both Viper and Jeremy fell back, and blood started to pour out of their chests. Alex jumped up and Yassen indicated for Alex to follow him. Alex took Viper's gun out of his hands and followed Yassen out.

William was not far down the corridor. Yassen bolted down the corridor, easily catching up with him. He attacked William from behind, prising Anya away from him. Luckily William was so shocked he did not shoot Anya. His gun fell to the ground and spun across the floor.

'Take Anya!' Yassen shouted to Alex, as he wrestled with William on the ground.

Alex nodded and took Anya's hand, dragging her up to a standing position.

'Can you walk?' he asked.

Anya was too shocked to answer.

'Go!' shouted Yassen.

Alex broke into a run and dragged Anya behind him, as Anya turned around to take one last look at her uncle. She ran, following Alex's lead, knowing for sure that there was something special about this boy.


	15. It'll Be Alright

Hi guys!

Thanks for reviewing (I know I'm getting repitive, but you don't know how much I appreciate it!).

I'm sorry to tell you that the time of my speedy updating has passed - I'm going on holiday for a week. However, you'll get the rest of the story soon enough, as well as A SEQUEL!

Yes, there will be a sequel.

I've already started writing it :D.

So happy reading!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Yassen quickly pinned William to the ground and shot him in the leg. Yassen stood back up and continued running down the corridor. He had to find Michael Smith, and kill him. Smith would have to die for Anya to be safe, and Yassen didn't have any reservations about killing him. And Anya's life meant far more to him than his newly found morals.

The next few doors were empty, and as he made his way down the corridor, he was met with Paul. Having much quicker reactions, Yassen shot him before he could even reach for his gun and continued down the corridor.

Yassen hoped Anya would be safe, but he knew if he could trust any other person with Anya's life, it would be Alex Rider.

As he opened the last door on the right, he found Michael Smith. Yassen's gun was pointing at Smith, and Smith's gun at Yassen. It was a deadly stalemate.

'Yassen Gregorovich,' said Michael Smith, slowly. Yassen knew from experience that Smith would muse to him about his troubles, before attempting to kill him. Evil men's minds worked in odd ways, it was true, but both great and evil minds think alike.

Smith was more dangerous than Yassen now, because his plan had been foiled and he had nothing to lose. Yassen, however, had everything to lose.

'You _do_ have an interesting family,' said Smith, talking as if they were old friends.

Yassen stayed silent, on the lookout for anything he could use to his advantage. He contemplated shooting Smith right there and then, but he could not guarantee that Smith would not shoot him also, and more than valuing his life, he didn't want Anya to lose another family member.

'I never dreamt that Scorpia's best assassin would have any attachments to a mere _child_,' he goaded, but the statement was not insulting to Yassen whatsoever.

'I no longer work for Scorpia,' said Yassen coldly.

'Oh, yes, that's right,' said Smith. 'You're alone now. Retired? Getting too old for the business? It's a shame such a talented man such as yourself now growing soft.'

Yassen knew he was trying to anger him, but Yassen refused to be angered. He kept his cool, emotionless mask on and let Smith continue with his speech.

'How ashamed Julia Rothman would be of her ex-agent now,' said Smith.

'Speak of the devil,' said a feminine voice behind Yassen.

It was Julia Rothman.

x.x.x

Alex jumped into the drivers' seat of the Hummer and Anya in the front seat. She was reluctant to leave Yassen behind, but she was sure he could take care of himself, and plus, he had ordered her to go.

'You can drive?' she asked Alex incredulously. He nodded quickly and started up the engine, racing off onto the road. Anya gripped the side of the seat to avoid being flung out through the front windscreen. They raced through the streets of London, horns sounding all around them. But Alex knew that this was a risk he had to take - if any of Smith's assassins followed him, they would have more to worry about than being caught speeding.

Alex slammed his foot on the accelerator. Anya wished she wasn't so clueless and that she could help Alex in any way, but she didn't know anything about cars and he seemed to be handling the Hummer very well. He zoomed past the traffic, ran an orange light and didn't look back.

Anya knew Alex was driving recklessly, but she trusted him with her life. There was something about him that made her know he was more than capable. And she had been through many more terrifying things in the past few hours than a bit of reckless driving.

Anya was very glad she was with the extremely curious boy called Alex Rider.

x.x.x

Alex and Anya waited nervously in Alex's house. It had been half an hour already and Yassen hadn't returned. Fears were growing in both their minds. Anya tried to tell herself that Yassen was alright, as he was the toughest person she knew. Alex knew that there was the possibility that Yassen wouldn't come back, but reassured himself by thinking that Yassen had already come back from the "dead" once before.

Jack bumbled into the living room, wondering how best to act around the two worried teenagers.

She was going to ask whether they wanted food, or whether they needed anything, but she decided not to break the still silence of the room. She crept silently back to the kitchen, and neither Anya or Alex noticed her arrival or departure.

'You don't think-' said Anya, who couldn't bear the silence any longer.

'No,' said Alex. She nodded and turned away. Tears were starting to form in her eyes as she realised the full impact of what might have happened. Her life would be shattered again.

Minutes passed, and each second a little bit of their hope was lost.

It had been one hour now, and the sky was starting to get dark. Anya couldn't hold in her fear anymore, and the tears started to flow.

'He – he hasn't-' she stuttered, unable to say what she wanted to. Alex, however, knew exactly how she was feeling. She started to sob, and he patted her lightly on the back. A lone tear trickled down his face. Alex couldn't believe he was crying over someone he once thought to be his worst enemy, but somehow, he was. Yassen was different now - Alex could tell. His eyes had lost their coldness, and something in the way he acted suggested that he was not a killing machine anymore. And, even if he hadn't died, he had been prepared to, all to save Alex's life.

Anya's sobs were the only noise that punctuated the silence.

'It will be alright,' Alex said softly, not really believing himself. He opened his arms and hugged her, hoping it would help to lift her spirits. He wished someone would tell hug him and tell him it would be alright as well.


	16. Once Again

Squeal! 100 reviews!

Thank you, everyone.

Here's the next chapter... tell me what you think.

Happy reading!

-Lauren

x.x.x

Smith immediately aimed his gun at Mrs Rothman, but Yassen didn't turn around. Julia pointed her gun at Yassen. They shifted slowly into a triangle, to best see the others. Each of them was on their highest guard, ready to shoot at the smallest movement.

Yassen was furiously angry, for the first time in years. He longed to shoot Mrs Rothman, to kill her on the spot, but his predicament slightly hindered him. He would have to work out some other plan, but he knew he wanted her dead.

'Julia, you-' said Yassen, and for the first time in his life, he was lost for words.

'You didn't seriously think I would help you, did you, Yassen?' she said, in her sickly sweet voice. 'You _betrayed_ us! You _failed_! You should have been killed, but you came back to life. You're a disgrace to Scorpia.'

_So that's how it is,_ thought Yassen angrily. _No matter how well you do all your other missions, fail one and you'll be Scorpia's enemy forever._

Yassen knew that was the way things worked in Scorpia – he'd seen other countless agents be eliminated because of their incompetence, he just never thought he'd become one of them.

'You and that stupid Igor. I always knew I couldn't trust that man. He never gave us the poison. He had us on. Yassen, did you seriously think I would _help_ you? That I would help you save that vile man's daughter? Anya is the key to anyone's success – she must know where the poison is.'

'She had no idea about what her father was doing. She's completely innocent,' said Yassen.

'Oh, because Scorpia doesn't attack innocent people,' said Julia sarcastically. 'Come on, Yassen. She would have to know _something_ about the poison. She is Igor's only child.'

'You're wrong,' said Yassen simply. 'She doesn't know anything.'

Julia decided to give up on Yassen, he was a lost case. Gone was the ruthless, cold-hearted assassin that she once knew, now replaced with a man who wanted to be a father. She was sickened by the transformation.

'Smith, if we work together, we can get Anya back,' said Julia Rothman, now turning to Smith. 'Yassen can't stop us.' However, she found no sympathy in Smith.

'You wanted to steal Anya off us,' said Smith. 'You wanted her for yourself. You were never going to _help_ us. Even if I join you now, I know you'll steal it all for yourself. You don't give a damn about anyone, Julia, except yourself.'

'We could rule the world together,' suggested Julia. 'You could be the king and I could be the queen,' she said, smiling sweetly at him. Yassen was sickened.

'I'd rather die than join you,' spat Smith.

'If that's how you want it, so be it,' said Julia angrily, realising that Smith would never join her against Yassen. 'You'll never achieve your ends now.' Instead, she set out to anger Yassen. 'Yassen, even though you've lost some of your wits, I see you haven't lost any of your skill.'

Yassen didn't answer her; he was seething with anger, but didn't want either of the two to know. If Scorpia was good for one thing, it was that Yassen had learned that showing emotions was the ultimate sign of weakness. Even though he was showing his emotions more, ever since Anya had come into his life, this was not the time.

If they knew he was angry, they would most definitely gain the upper hand. Anyone with too many emotions, in such a heated position as this, was sure to come out on the bottom. Coldness and indifference were the best weapons to use against anger.

Julia Rothman continued even though Yassen didn't answer her.

'Still the best, as ever. You created the perfect plan to get to Smith, and it worked beautifully, didn't it? And then, escaping when two guns were pointed at your head? Freeing both Anya and Alex? I must say, I'm impressed.'

Yassen still kept silent.

'But you left your back unguarded, didn't you?' she taunted. 'And now, who's got the upper hand now, Yassen?'

'No one has,' said Yassen, keeping his voice cool. 'If one of us shoots, all of us are dead.'

It was true. Yassen had never personally been caught up in such a situation before – he usually eliminated all his enemies beforehand. However, he'd seen this before. He'd been taught about it at Scorpia.

Forcing the anger out of his system, he set to work.

There were a few elements that he had to assess.

However equal the situation seemed at the time, an assassin had to remember that there was no equal situation. So first, Yassen had to find the balances of power.

Smith had power over Julia and Yassen because he hardly cared if he lived or died. He was bound to be the first one to shoot – he would give his own life to take his enemies'. Therefore Yassen had to think quickly.

Julia Rothman had already tried to assert her power with words – if she had managed to convince Smith, Yassen would be dead, no doubt about it. However, her plan had not worked due to Smith's hatred. That worked in Yassen's favour.

Yassen did not have any power whatsoever – he had no hope of convincing Julia or Smith to join him, and he certainly did care if he lived or died. However, Yassen was the only one of the three who was a fully trained assassin, and he suspected the only one of the three who was critically analysing the situation.

The next step for Yassen was to figure out what could tip the balance of power. An alliance, but that was out of the question. A lack of bullets – but all 3 were careful people and had bullets. Incompetence – but though Julia and Smith were not trained assassins, they were entirely competent people. Yassen could try and make Julia angry and make her lose control, but Yassen did not think he had that kind of time. And it wouldn't do much – because Julia was the one who was actually posing a threat to him (her gun being the only one pointed at his head), he could not risk infuriating her. It would only lead to the death of all 3. Slow reactions – but both Julia and Smith were quick to the trigger. Hesitation, however, could work to his advantage.

And he knew exactly what he would use to make Julia hesitate.

Yassen smiled to himself.

'Julia, listen to me,' he said, slowly, softly, almost gently.

'Don't talk to me, you fool! I will shoot!' she screamed.

'John Rider had something to tell you before he died,' said Yassen, and as he said the sentence, he saw her stop. Her eyes were set alight with hope – Yassen knew that John was the only man Julia had actually loved, and even though he betrayed her, now that Yassen had given her a sliver of hope, she was going to cling to it. If she had taken more time to think about it, she would see that it was obvious Yassen was lying, but she didn't have that kind of time.

Yassen shot.

Smith shot as soon as he saw Yassen's finger tightening on the trigger.

Both he and Julia Rothman crumpled to the ground, pools of blood starting to form around their fallen forms.

Julia, however, didn't shoot. She died waiting for the message from John Rider, which he had never given.

Once again, John Rider had saved Yassen's life.


	17. Father Figure

Hello!

So here it is - the final chapter. I've absolutely loved writing this story, and reading all your reviews! Thank you so much!

Don't forget there's a sequel - I'll leave the first chapter on the end of this soon.

Really, thank you to everyone who read and/or reviewed this story! I love you all!

Enjoy the last chapter :D.

-Lauren

x.x.x

The doorbell rang, and both Alex and Anya snapped back to reality in unison. They jumped up and ran to the door. Alex fumbled frantically for the keys, and opened the door.

'Yassen!' screamed Anya, jumping on him and hugging him tightly.

He smiled down at her tiredly.

Alex wasn't sure what he was meant to do. He was relieved and glad that Yassen had survived, but he had no intention of joining their hug.

'Thank you, Alex,' Yassen said, looking straight at Alex. Alex shook his head.

'No, thank you.' Alex couldn't believe he was thanking Yassen, and if he'd known that he would a few months ago, he would have thought it was completely insane. But he really did mean it. Yassen was the reason he was alive – for the 3rd time, he'd saved Alex's life.

Anya was still crying, but at least they were tears of joy. After several long minutes, she let go of Yassen and stepped back. She looked up and saw that Yassen was still smiling tiredly at her.

'Is he… dead?' Anya asked, referring to Michael Smith. Yassen nodded. Anya felt all the weight of fear and dread that before was crushing her simply fly away.

She felt true joy for the first time in months, and Yassen, the first time in years.

x.x.x

Yassen and Anya spent the next day together. Yassen spent a great deal of time nursing Anya's wounds, but only after he'd mended his own, at the insistence of Anya. Yassen told Anya the whole story, and she listened intently.

'Your father – he was my cousin. Igor was a good man, if not a little too naïve and ambitious.'

Tears threatened to spill when Yassen mentioned Anya's father, but she held them back. She did not need to cry any more when her father was dead and gone.

'He developed-'

'He developed a new poison, undetectable. I know. He told me,' interrupted Anya.

'Oh,' said Yassen simply. 'Anyone could make that mistake, Anya. Your father wasn't-'

'I know he wasn't,' said Anya, smiling. Yassen wasn't used to talking, and even though Anya was the person he felt most comfortable around, he still wasn't used to the whole idea of conversation simply for the reason of connecting.

'So, I guess you know everything, then,' said Yassen, but not angrily.

'Well, actually, I have a few questions,' said Anya. Yassen predicted that she would, no matter how much Smith told her.

'Go on.'

'First of all… is this ever going to happen again? How many people know about-'

'It will _never_ happen again,' said Yassen firmly. 'No one will hurt you again. I've taken care of it,' he said, smiling.

Anya was glad to have Yassen as her uncle, and was even gladder that she wasn't one of his enemies. She felt a strange warmth at the feeling of being cared for. She smiled warmly at Yassen, and he smiled back. It was unusual of him to return smiles, but she didn't know how rare the reaction was.

'And also… why is Alex so… different?'

Yassen smiled again.

'That's for him to tell you, not me.'

'There is something about him, isn't there?' she asked him. Yassen nodded in response.

Yassen knew what her last question was. He wasn't sure he was ready – he wasn't sure if he ever would be ready to answer it, but he knew he would have to some time.

'And… you're really an assassin?' she asked.

There it was.

Yassen paused, unsure of what to say. He wondered what Anya thought of him now. Would her opinion of him change? Would she think badly of him now? He cursed Viper in his head, and satisfied himself with knowing that Viper was dead.

He forgot the speech he had prepared in the inevitable occurrence of the question.

He paused for a few seconds more, and ignored the quizzical look that Anya was giving him. He'd never forgotten anything before. He really was changing.

'I was,' said Yassen finally, and rather lamely. 'Not any more,' he added.

Anya was silent. It was a lot to take in. Her uncle, her new father figure, Yassen, was really an assassin. She knew there was a dangerous quality of some kind about him, but her guess had been that he was a policeman, or a spy. She'd never think he was _evil_, just cold.

But she knew he wasn't lying – everything fitted. The gun, the skills… it was just that she never would have guessed.

Yassen was afraid that he had scared Anya by revealing his true job – but if she could not accept that he used to be an assassin, there would be problems down the track later, even if he hadn't told her.

After a long minute, Anya looked back up at Yassen.

'Not the job I would have guessed, but it's rather cool all the same,' she said, smiling. 'So tell me more.'

Yassen sighed with relief, and he realised just how much of an effect this softly spoken girl was having on him.

x.x.x

There was a knock at the door.

And Yassen knew who it was.

Yassen hoped the knocking hadn't woken Anya up, and walked to the door and opened it.

It was exactly the person he had expected.

'Alex Rider. Come in,' said Yassen. Alex stepped inside, and Yassen closed the door.

'Sorry to intrude,' Alex said, unsure of how to start the conversation.

'You're not intruding,' Yassen said. 'Do sit down.'

Alex took a seat on the sofa, and Yassen sat on the sofa opposite him. Alex, stumped as to what he should say, remained silent.

'You want to know about John, don't you?' Yassen asked. Alex nodded, surprised at how awkward the situation was. Alex knew it would be uncomfortable, but he didn't think it would be this bad.

'He was … my best friend,' Yassen said stiffly. The conversation was about as flowing as thick mud. 'He saved my life.'

A few extremely awkward seconds passed. A bird chirped outside, and then silence enveloped the room once again.

Yassen was determined to tell Alex about his father. It was the least Alex deserved – Yassen knew the pain of losing your parents, but he at least had memories of his parents. Alex didn't even have memories.

'He was brave, like you, Alex. He wanted to do the right thing, even as an assassin.'

Alex wondered whether he should tell Yassen that his father was in fact a double agent for MI6. It would probably upset him, and shatter his idea of Alex's father. It might make him angry. He might be sad. He might shoot Alex.

Yassen continued.

'John was always out to do the right thing. He completed all missions with minimum loss of life. It puzzled me, but I admired him greatly for it. He was lucky, yet unlucky. Bad things always seemed to happen to him, but fate always seemed to be on his side in the end.'

The same thing happened to Alex. He would get mixed up in the worst situations, but always managed to survive them, due to a twist of fate. Alex realised that Yassen knew his father far better than his own godfather.

'Somehow, he didn't seem right for Scorpia. He would have been much better as a spy, like his brother.'

Alex knew he should say something. Yassen, who loved John dearly, should know the truth, no matter how much it would hurt.

'He – he wasn't an assassin,' blurted out Alex. Yassen gave him a curious look – a mixture of amusement, surprise and even a ghost of a smile. 'He was a spy – for MI6.'

'I thought he might have been,' said Yassen softly.

Of all the things Alex had expected Yassen to do, it wasn't to react in that way. Alex was lost for words, and Yassen smiled gently at his confusion.

'Alex, I was not completely ignorant back then,' said Yassen, smiling. The expression on Yassen's face was something Alex hardly ever saw. He was taken aback by the genuineness of the smile – Yassen was a person that Alex thought he would never see smiling.

'I had my suspicions,' Yassen continued. 'John seemed too good, too worthy of being an assassin. He had morals. He was kind to people. I thought he was a spy, but I trusted him so unconditionally that I never doubted his word,' said Yassen, a hint of sadness in his voice. 'No matter who you trust, they will tell you at least one lie.'

Alex, so taken aback that Yassen was not angry, didn't know how to reply.

'I'm sorry I sent you to Scorpia, Alex,' said Yassen. 'What happened?'

Alex thought Yassen deserved to know, so he recounted the tale. When he had finished, Yassen looked thoughtful.

'Julia Rothman didn't die,' he said.

'She didn't?' asked Alex incredulously.

'That woman is hard to kill,' said Yassen.

'But a building fell on her!' Alex said, shaking his head.

'And I got shot in the chest,' said Yassen, smiling slightly.

There was silence for a few seconds, and then Yassen thought of something.

'I think you should have this,' said Yassen. 'Just wait a minute.'

Yassen stood up and left the room, and Alex was left alone. He realised how much of a normal person Yassen was now – he loved, he lived, and Alex was pretty sure that he cried as well. He was no different to Alex – they had simply taken different paths. Alex's idea of Yassen, ever since the first day Alex was told about him, had been turned upside down. Alex had thought Yassen to be some kind of monster, a mindless killing machine. On the plane that day, Alex had felt pity for the man, but nothing like the respect he felt for Yassen now.

Yassen reappeared with a photo album held loosely in his hand.

Alex stood up and walked over to him. Yassen placed the photo album in Alex's hand, and for the second time, they had physical contact. Alex opened the album, and smiled. It was a picture of him as a baby.

'Where did you get this?' he asked, looking up at the older man.

Yassen smiled.

'After your dad died, MI6 proceeded to empty his house of everything – their usual procedure.'

Alex wondered whether they would have taken away everything he owned, if he had died on one of his missions. Probably. What made him different to any other agent?

'I managed to get there before them. I salvaged this, but then had to run because they were coming in.'

Alex turned the page, and one particular picture caught his eye.

John was smiling widely, and had his arm around a pretty woman – Helen Rider, who was also smiling. Next to them was a young Yassen. He was smiling – like he was today – it was a true, genuine smile from happiness, nothing more. And in Helen Rider's arms was the person Alex had last expected to see – himself.

Alex gasped.

'Yes, Alex, we've met before.' Yassen face broke into a smile at his shock. Alex wondered what he'd thought of Yassen the first time they'd met – the time he never remembered.

The photo seemed surreal to Alex – like it was taken out of an alternate universe, where the Rider family was still together, and Yassen was not an assassin, but the caring man he was today. As he looked at the picture, Alex could almost feel the joy radiating from the four people in the photo.

'When?' asked Alex.

'A long time ago,' replied Yassen. 'I stayed with your father on one of the breaks between missions.'

Alex was shocked. His father had let an assassin into his home. But Yassen wasn't the stereotypical assassin. Perhaps John Rider had seen the bit of good in Yassen that Alex had missed, or perhaps Yassen's good side had shrunk ever since John Rider died.

'Thank you,' said Alex, looking at the picture, embarrassed to look Yassen in the eye as tears started to form in his own. Yassen truly had chosen the perfect gift. Yassen smiled at Alex.

'Now, Alex, I have a question for you. What _has_ MI6 done to you, all this time?'

Alex laughed, and launched into his tale. It felt freeing, deeply relieving, to share the information with someone. He realised, as he talked with Yassen that bright morning, that he had a new father figure.

x.x.x

THE END.


	18. Phone Call

Hey guys!

Thank you ALL for reviewing, again, I really appreciate it! Here's the teaser for the sequel, which I haven't decided on the name for yet. Any suggestions?

I've got exams all next week, so I may or may not be able to update next Saturday. Sorry!

Anyway, I'm really glad you liked the ending (I would never have killed Yassen!) and I hope you enjoy the sequel as well!

-Lauren

x.x.x

If an ordinary person was studying the scene, they would never have known anything.

It was an unusually cold day in Sydney. Clouds dominated the sky, and everything seemed less alive than usual. Still, crowds swarmed around the harbour – mostly made up of Japanese tourists ready to take a picture of anything.

A man in a dark suit walked by the harbour. He looked like an ordinary man – he didn't catch anyone's attention. He was middle-aged, slightly fat, with greying hair, and held a mobile phone up to his ear. He could have been a businessman, or an accountant. Little did the people around him know that there was a killer in their midst.

Any normal person would think that if they wanted a mobile phone conversation to remain secret, they would conduct it in a deserted place. The Australian man knew better. In a deserted place, there would be nothing but his voice for others to hear. If a spy was nearby, and there was no way the man couldn't be confident about this, he would hear the conversation loud and clear. In a crowded place, however, there were hundreds of conversations happening at once. A spy would have to get close to the speaker to hear a conversation, and the man knew he was more than a match for a spy. The man also knew that people noticed less than you'd expect them to, and trusted that no one would be interested in a conversation between a middle-aged man and what they would expect to be an equally boring person.

'Revenge?' the man asked. 'Is that really necessary?'

In Venice, the other man frowned.

'You know it is,' said Dr Three.

'We could be doing something more productive,' the Australian man argued. If it was anyone else that he was arguing with, the Australian man would have simply conjured up a contract killer to remove them. However, since it was Dr Three, he didn't dare to.

'If we aren't rid of them, nothing we do in the future will be too productive,' said Dr Three. He too, was tempted to remove the obstacle that was the other man from his path, but the Australian man was resourceful, and pitting themselves against one another would simply be a waste of resources.

'That's true,' the Australian man had to admit. 'Is it confirmed that Charlotte is dead?' Even though the Australian man was almost sure he wasn't being overheard, he wouldn't give anything away so easily. When he talked of Charlotte, he was in fact referring to Julia Rothman. Charlotte was one of her middle names, and Dr Three would know exactly who he was talking about.

'It's confirmed,' said Dr Three. 'One of my men picked up the body.'

'That's a shame,' said the Australian man, but both men knew he wasn't being sincere.

'Yes, such a shame that such a pleasant woman's life has come to an end,' replied Dr Three, playing along. It was, perhaps, the closest thing the two men had done to a joke.

'Who shall conduct the mission?' asked the Australian man impatiently. He couldn't spend all day talking to Dr Three.

'We shall,' replied Dr Three.

'Together?' asked the Australian man incredulously. It was never a good idea for the heads of Scorpia to work together. This, from past experience, resulted in arguments, and eventually, the death of one of them, inevitably caused by the other. Only one person could be in charge at a time.

'There are two targets,' said Dr Three. The Australian man contemplated. Perhaps… and if they didn't work together, he knew that Dr Three would simply take charge of the operation himself. The Australian man didn't want that.

'Very well then. I shall meet you tomorrow,' said the Australian man. In the corner of his eye, a figure had just darted out of the crowd. He would have to deal with that after the phone call ended.

Dr Three didn't bother replying – he simply hung up. But that was the way the Australian man liked it – no greetings, no goodbyes. It was the way all Scorpia heads and agents worked.


	19. Julia Rothman

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Hey guys!

Here's the link to The Girl He Saved – the sequel. Remember to click on the link below and go to the proper page for the sequel, because I won't be posting the chapters here anymore!

/s/4259382/1/TheGirlHeSaved

Well, fanfiction says I can't post multiple copies of anything, or simply an author's note, so…

Here's a bonus chapter!

It's Julia Rothman's thoughts right before she dies.

As a final note, I thank everyone who read or reviewed my story! Thank you especially to the reviewers. I love you all!

x.x.x

It wasn't the most dangerous situation she had been in, but it was definitely the tensest. Anything could tip the balance of power out, and she knew that Yassen knew this. She had to be on her guard.

She was so tempted to just shoot – to be done with it, to be rid of this horrible situation, but she knew she couldn't. She had to come out on top. She knew that she was able to. Her previous attempts of talking the other two to her will hadn't worked, but she'd come up with something. She would just have to find a way to kill Michael Smith and Yassen without being hurt.

And yet, the way Yassen was acting, he looked like he already had a plan. He could easily be rid of both her and Michael Smith without being hurt – he'd find a way. Julia Rothman had to thwart his plan, somehow. She tightened her finger on the trigger.

She studied Yassen and Smith's face. Yassen was obviously thinking – he had a look of concentration on his face, yet he still remained aware of his surroundings. Julia had never honed that skill. She was a woman, and though she could multitask, emotions always clouded her mind. The one that was affecting her now was fear.

She had been scared before, but not like this. In the other dangerous situations that she'd been in, she knew there was some sort of way out – which she always took. Now, it was really all up to the others about whether she lived or died. She was scared it would all be over. What had she achieved with her life?

Nothing, really.

She'd run a multibillion dollar company, enjoyed the luxuries of life and yet as she stood there, in that final moment, she didn't feel that she'd achieved anything. The things that meant the most, she had failed in. She'd never really belonged to a proper, functional family. She had never had any true friends – friends that she could trust unconditionally and love for their personalities alone. She'd never had even a moment of relaxation – she always had to watch her back, and even in her childhood, she was always afraid that her parents would be taken away from her – which they were, in the end. She had the chance to be a mother, but that was snatched away from her as soon as she'd achieved motherhood.

And lastly, she'd found true love – she'd found the one man which could make her happy, and yet that was taken away from her as well when she found out that he had never really loved her.

Julia was snapped out of her reflection by Yassen's voice.

'Julia, listen to me,' he said. She knew he was up to something – she vowed she wouldn't listen to a word he said. She knew he was trying to appeal to her emotions by using her first name, and though she knew this, she couldn't help but feel a little compassion for Yassen. He had always been her favourite.

Even in the worst of people, there is a little good inside.

'Don't talk to me, you fool! I will shoot!' she screeched, regaining her senses. Yassen was a traitor. He must be destroyed.

She wondered whether this was the end. If Yassen had a plan, it would probably work, no matter what she did. In that last moment, she wished she had achieved something more.

'John Rider had something to tell you before he died,' said Yassen, and in that moment of fear, confusion and regret, Julia believed him. She gasped. John Rider. Her one and only love.

Had he told Yassen that he really had loved her? Had he come back to life? Had he felt regret for leaving her? Did he miss her? Did he really love her?

Before she could feel it, a bullet flew through her head.

Julia Rothman was dead.


End file.
